


A Little Drop Of You

by Ookamisan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Because poth participants are drunk AF, Derek channeling his inner Hoechlin, Dubious Consent, Dysphoria, Fluff and Angst, Good Peter, Kid Fic, Knotting, M/M, Mentioned Scott McCall, Past Character Death, Protective Derek, Scenting, Single Parent Stiles Stilinski, Suicide mention, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8400811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ookamisan/pseuds/Ookamisan
Summary: **If you have read this story before Nov 3 2016 I suggest reading again because I had to basically rewrite everything to fix a major plot hole**Derek couldn't help but wonder about Stiles and Hunter all day. It was so rare that he would run into another werewolf in town. His family had been the only ones in Beacon Hills for a very long time. It was even stranger that it would be a werewolf infant that he finds with a human parent; who may or may not even be aware of his child being a werewolf.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Updated: I'm finally getting this story squared away. Thank you for sticking around.
> 
> This is an extension of a Sterek Week 2016 submission. I plan on finishing this.  
> More tags will be added as I go.  
> Derek is pretty OOC but hopefully not toooo bad? idk  
> Non-beta'd and i realize i switch whose pov it is without really indicating the pov has switched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He faintly heard someone open the door and come in, he was unconcerned until a pair of arms wrapped around his neck and a garbled voice spoke in his ear. His hearing was nearly shot from the volume of the music in the club and being severely intoxicated helped none.  
> The stranger turned him around and suddenly a tongue was invading his mouth and Derek was mildly aware that he may or may not be currently pissing on their shoes.

  
**March 30**  
  


Derek was pretty sure whatever the Jungle was serving in their drinks that night was laced with wolf’s bane. Werewolves don't get drunk. The only reason he even bothered with vodka shots was for the sake of passing among humans and because he could pretend. Alas, here he is, abso-fucking-lutely trashed.  
  
He was dancing, even. Just going completely nuts with the crowd and the music. He was lucky that it was the Jungle since he had zero control of his burning alpha eyes. Plenty of people wearing fangs and monstrous eye contacts that made their eyes glow with the flashing strobe lights made him blend in well.  
  
He danced and raved until he could hardly breathe. Covered in sweat and the room spinning, he had half the mind to realize he needed to piss.  
  
He stumbled his way to the bathroom, relieved that, incredibly, it was empty. Somehow, despite hardly being able to stand and his eyesight feeling equivalent to googly eyes, he managed to unzip his pants and not piss down his leg. Whether his aim was perfectly in the urinal or not was debatable.  
  
He faintly heard someone open the door and come in, he was unconcerned until a pair of arms wrapped around his neck and a garbled voice spoke in his ear. His hearing was nearly shot from the volume of the music in the club and being severely intoxicated helped none.  
  
The stranger turned him around and suddenly a tongue was invading his mouth and Derek was mildly aware that he may or may not be currently pissing on their shoes.  
  
"Le'zz go 'n here." The stranger slurred, voice muffled by Derek's damaged hearing. He was pulled and pushed into a bathroom stall, pressed up against the door and ravished. Derek responded only as how his intoxicated-alpha instincts could and he kissed back sloppily. Clawed hands pulling the stranger close as he gnawed dangerously on their neck. The stranger reeked of cheap perfume, wolf’s bane cocktail and sweat; musk and cinnamon. It was pungent, fertile and his tacky cock flexed in the cold air with interest. He licked every dripping trail of sweat he could find on the stranger's face and neck, drowning himself in the delicious scent.  
  
He doesn't remember how the stranger ended up bent over, braced face down and ass up on the grimy toilet seat, but the kick of adrenaline cleared his mind just enough to recognize that he had one hand's bruising grip on a slim waist, the other using the stranger's red pleather skirt as leverage as he fucked brutally and unapologetically into them. The bass of the music rattled the walls and their very bones, influencing the rhythm of Derek's thrusts. He pressed his chest down on the stranger's back, slipping a hand underneath a crop top to grope at breasts that barely filled his palm.  
  
Gasps laced with pleasure and pain burst from the stranger's lungs on every thrust as Derek slammed his knot deep inside, pouring his very being into them. The fog that had remained at the edges of his consciousness quickly took over again, stronger than before, as his heart rate slowed and his strength diminished.  
  
His knees buckled and he collapsed onto the tacky bathroom floor, the stranger's hips forcefully yanked down with him.  
  
He doesn't remember the stranger leaving, or him passing out on the bathroom floor for that matter, but he is woken rudely when someone tramples his face and extremities to violently puke in the toilet.  
  
He manages to scramble out and tuck himself away in his pants, making his way through the crowd and out to his Camaro. He burned his pants when he got home; the smell would never properly wash out for his sensitive wolf nose.  
  
Needless to say, Derek had no plans on ever returning to the Jungle.


	2. CHAPTER ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek couldn't help but wonder about Stiles and Hunter all day. It was so rare that he would run into another werewolf in town. His family had been the only ones in Beacon Hills for a very long time. It was even stranger that it would be a werewolf infant that he finds with a human parent; who may or may not even be aware of his child being a werewolf.

**DEC 1**

What was it about the local grocery store cursing Derek Hale to life altering events? The first time he had been granted a major change in his life inside a grocery store, was the day his entire family had died. Perished in a fire. Murdered by arson as he and his sister, Laura, debated on whole or two percent. His tiny flip phone ringing in his back pocket with a call from the police station.  
  
The second time was when he learned that his uncle Peter, who suffered third degree burns and six years of coma had suddenly and unexplainably woke a day before the doctors were going to end his dialysis.  
  
The third time however...  
  
Everything about that day had been fine. It was a calm, lazy winter morning. Derek had just gone to the local grocer to buy some milk. Whole. Nothing exciting. Milk no longer meant anything symbolic, right? Nothing hinted his life was to be flipped upside down, inside out and slapped like he owed it money. Again.  
  
He was standing in line with his one item. A man in front of him wearing sweats and a raggedy hoodie with shoulder length, wavy dark hair and thick, five o’clock shadow was gently rotating side to side. An infant with a head full of thick, black hair asleep and making tiny chirping sounds. He also had a large diaper bag slung over his other shoulder, and a baby carrier with grocery items inside of it.  
  
Derek thought it a little odd to see such a young man alone with a new baby but pushed it to the back of his mind. Preconceptions about single dads needed to be smothered.  
  
A distant, sour smell of distress reached Derek's nose. The baby shifted then, hiccupping. The baby's face screwed up and all hell’s gate opened.  
  
Derek's sensitive wolf hearing made the cries even worse and he couldn't help but cringe as the wails were blasted directly at him. No matter how many times his siblings had cried and screamed, he wasn't entirely used to it.  
  
"No no no, shhh." The man bounced lightly, trying to console the infant, struggling with his arms being totally occupied. The baby's face quickly turned red, toothless mouth gaping as he wailed.  
  
The man quickly became embarrassed, apologizing to everyone and no one in particular as he realized he had no way of getting the baby what it needed.  
  
Derek felt sympathetic. "Do you need help?" he asked, tentatively, not sure if the guy would hear him over the cries.  
  
The man turned to him, shame turning his cheeks pink but staring at Derek like he was an angel sent from Heaven.  
  
"Hold him for a second?" The man pressed himself up close to Derek.  
  
Derek quickly scooped the small baby up into his hands, pulling him close. In that instant, he got a scent of the man and baby; and froze. The man smelled of stress like any new parent would, and something he couldn't quite place but it reminded him of home. The smell that had him frozen however, was cinnamon and musk. It was that smell from that night at the club almost a year ago. It made his cheeks turn pink and his temperature rise. But… no. No, Derek clearly remembered the stranger being a girl.  
  
The baby mostly smelled like hunger and baby powder, with a faint cinnamon smell that was not only on his skin but sewn through his DNA.  
  
He experienced an odd sense of possessiveness that he hadn't felt since his family was alive.  
  
The baby's cries immediately ceased as he sat in Derek's arms; gazing up at him in his little cookie monster onesie. Derek felt a chill as he maintained eye contact with this infant who suddenly seemed far too intelligent for his age. A flash of yellow flickered across the baby's eyes. So quick that it would've been easily missed if you blinked. Or were human. His eyelids drooped and he slumped into Derek's chest, sound asleep.  
  
Derek still couldn't move.  
  
The man was half-crouched, binky finally in hand, staring dumbstruck at Derek. "That's _impossible_."  
  
Derek didn't really know what to say. An old couple walking by giggled at the sight of the baby slumped in Derek's arms.  
  
"I can hold him while we go through the line?" he offered.  
  
"Oh... th-that's okay I've got his binky now. I can take him back." He stammered as he reached for the baby. As soon as his hands wrapped around the infant's ribcage, his tiny fists clenched onto Derek's t-shirt, one single wail ringing from his lungs before the man quickly let him back into Derek's embrace, the baby hiding his face in Derek's neck.  
  
"That settles that, then." The guy picked up the diaper bag and carrier full of groceries before returning to the line and walking up to the conveyor, ducking his face, abashed.  
  
Derek waited through the man's check out, and continued to hold him through out his own. He pretended to not notice the man eyeing him.  
  
"I can take him back, now. You've been so generous." He reached for the baby again.  
Derek let him take the baby this time, gently unfolding the baby's clenched fists as he clung to Derek's shirt, wails starting up fresh.  
  
"Shush shush, you're okay. We'll be home soon." The man hugged the baby close, but his cries did not dampen.  
  
Derek frowned as the man's embarrassment grew, turning his cinnamon smell sour. He had more bags to carry now and Derek didn't hesitate to grab the grocery bags, carrier and held out a hand for the diaper bag.  
  
The man hesitated again before deciding it was worth it and handed the bag over.  
  
"How about I take the three of us to lunch?"  
  
"Well aren’t you bold?” The man smirked as they quickly vacated the store. ostentatious." The man laughed as he quickly vacated the store.  
  
"He is obviously hungry and so are you. I can tell."  
  
The baby's cries were becoming raspy. "In a different circumstance, I might actually say yes.”  
  
Derek smiled a little. “You like Beth's Breakfast?"  
  
He heard the man's stomach grumble loudly. Beth's was the best diner in the valley, or mountain, rather. Since it was located in a canyon. They reached their destination: a beat up car that had lost most of it's paint from rust. He unlocked the driver's door and reach in with one arm to unlock the back door, opening it with a creak. He walked up to Derek, taking the baby carrier, which doubled as a car seat and quickly clipped it back in the car, then buckled the baby, Hunter, who was still crying, into his seat.  
  
"Everyone likes Beth's Breakfast." The man said indifferently, taking the groceries and diaper bag from Derek's grip, tossing them as well as his back pack onto the floor of the back seat.  
  
Derek took his grocery list with it's only item on it, pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled his number on it. "I'll be at Beth's in an hour. Don't miss breakfast hours." He winked and folded it firmly into the man's palm.  
  
"My name is Derek, by the way."  
  
"...Stiles."  
  
"Stiles." Derek nodded. "I like it."  
  
"Thanks I picked it myself." Stiles said flatly.  
  
Derek laughed, thinking it was funny despite the seriousness of Stiles’ tone.  
  
Hunter's cries took on a whole new desperate tone and Stiles looked between him and the car before finalizing, “I hope you can afford my appetite.”  
  
Derek laughed openly. “It’ll be fine.”  
  
Stiles nodded once before getting in the car and turning up the heat before driving away.

Derek cringed as the one of the car's belts squealed viciously, watching them leave.  
  
With a quivering sigh he turned and walked to his own vehicle, a black Camaro, and went home with his milk, thinking about the flash of yellow in Hunter's eyes and the musk of Stiles’ skin.  
  
He was serious on his word and arrived at Beth's Breakfast exactly an hour later, letting the waitress know he might have another person coming.  
  
He was a little surprised but pleasantly so, to see Stiles walk in ten minutes later. He had apparently showered, long hair pulled back with a tie. He had discarded the ragged hoodie from earlier to put on a fresh one. He had Hunter in the baby carrier, covered with a blanket and binky securely in his mouth, sound asleep.  
  
Derek waved to get his attention, smiling as Stiles quickly made his way to the booth.  
  
"Glad you came." Derek greeted.  
  
"I must be crazy." Stiles laughed nervously.  
  
"You must be hungry, you mean. Plus no sane person would turn down a random act of kindness."  
  
"Is that what I am? Your good deed for the week?" Stiles’ eyes squinted at him, head cocked to the side.  
  
Derek immediately realized that Stiles had bite and he choked on his coffee. "No, no that's not- Forgive me. I… I only wanted to help."  
  
"I needed help getting a _pacifier_. I’m not skipping meals." Stiles rolled his eyes.  
  
Just then a waitress came up to offer Stiles coffee and deliver a plate with four very large, hot, fluffy biscuits that were too tall to hold in one hand, as well as a jar of the diner's homemade raspberry jam and butter.  
  
Stiles didn't hesitate to snatch one up, break off the perfectly toasted and steaming top to spread jam on it. These biscuits were the reason the diner was so popular and, also the fact that when it was founded in the early 1900's, it was only a train car that the owner, Beth, cooked and served in. Beth herself had long passed but she was a sensation and the face of the diner. You could buy a t-shirt with her on the front: cigarette in her mouth and Chihuahua under an arm.  
  
Stiles stuffed the top into his mouth and moaned. It had been far too long since he had been to Beth's.  
  
"Order anything. Something you can take home for dinner." Derek said as Stiles picked up his menu.  
  
Stiles dropped it scathingly. "I have food at home, Derek."  
  
"Of course you do. And everyone likes leftovers."  
  
Stiles huffed, sliding the menu away. "I know what I want."  
  
Derek caught the attention of the waitress again and ordered their breakfasts. When she left, Derek leaned in a bit, nodding towards Hunter and asking Stiles, "So are you open to stories? Telling me a bit about yourself?"  
  
Stiles looked at Hunter, who was clearly fed and happily asleep in a food coma. Stiles chewed his lip, clearly thinking of what to say.  
  
"Well... I'm taking online college courses. Nothing interesting. Just my associates." Stiles waved away any possible questions about college.  
  
"Umm... obviously I'm a dad. Hunter is two months old now." Stiles gazed down at his sleeping baby.  
  
Derek hummed. "I guessed as much."  
  
"Really? Everyone tells me he's big for two months." Stiles raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I developed fast, too. Not that that has any significance." Derek cut in, realizing what he had said.  
  
"Just a coincidence." Derek laughed nervously, "Let me guess, he was born at six months?"  
  
Stiles gaped at him. "Uhh, yeah. How did you-?"  
  
"Just a guess. Like I said." Derek stalled.  
  
"Right." Stiles sipped his coffee, keeping a weary eye on Derek. "It's definitely odd. How he was born prematurely and, at the time was incredibly small, but now he is bigger than most babies who were born at full-term." Stiles gazed fondly down at Hunter.  
  
"Like Clifford." Derek smiled from behind his own coffee mug.  
  
"Yeah, a little?" Stiles laughed, “The doctor was a jerk, though. First thing he said was that Hunter was the ugliest baby he’d ever seen. I mean…?”  
  
He gestured at Hunter who, in Derek’s eyes, looked like an average baby. Pale with pink cheeks and a head of thick black hair that didn’t match Stiles’ own.  
  
Just then, their food was being brought to them on steaming plates, still sizzling.  
  
Stiles moaned as he smelled his large plate of chicken fried steak and potatoes. Gazing at the stack of pancakes placed next to it.  
  
Derek hummed at the sight of his biscuits and gravy before they both dug in ravenously. They spent several long minutes in silence, enjoying their food. Derek observed Stiles as he ate. He leaned on his elbows, slightly hunched the entire time. Derek decided it best to not tease him for poor table etiquette. They were in a diner anyhow.  
  
Hunter woke from the sound of cutlery clinking. Bright auburn eyes gazing as he twisted his head around, taking in whatever his immediate surroundings were. When he couldn't immediately see Stiles he became fussy and worried.  
  
Stiles wiped his mouth and bent over the carrier. "Hey, kiddo. Sleep good? You should've since I fed you till you were fat." He poked Hunter's belly, who babbled and kicked happily.  
  
Derek couldn't help but chuckle. Hunter apparently heard him over the sounds of the restaurant and turned to lock eyes.  
  
Stiles didn't seem to find this odd and only laughed when Hunter began kicking with vigor.  
  
"I think he likes you, man." Stiles said, pulling Hunter up and out to prop on his lap as he finished eating.  
  
Derek could definitely see how Hunter had progressed beyond the normal two month old. Already holding himself up and looking closer to four months. He reached a fat fist up to try and dip his fingers in the gravy on Stiles’ plate. When Stiles pushed the plate out of reach he fussed again, giving Derek a look that seemed reminiscent of " _Can you believe this guy?_ "  
  
"Here, you go to your new best friend. How bout that?" Stiles passed Hunter over the table to Derek who readily took him. As he settled Hunter in his lap, he got a stronger scent. He still smelled like cinnamon, just like Stiles. The baby powder smell was dampened a bit by the overwhelming smell of content and happiness. There was a very faint pine smell that reminded Derek of himself and he couldn’t tell if he was just smelling himself on Hunter from earlier, or if that could actually be part of Hunter’s DNA.  
  
That contrast bothered him and he had to refrain from holding the baby up to sniff him properly.  
  
Stiles watched Hunter sit in Derek's lap like he belonged there, quiet and bright. It puzzled him as he and Derek chatted. Hunter was purely a daddy's boy. He never took well to strangers. Tolerated John, his dad, to hold him for a few minutes before screaming and kicking to go back to Stiles, and that was on a good day. Stiles must have this man. As a sitter, at least. Give him a few hours a week to recoup.  
  
"I mean this changes everything,” he declared, cutting Derek off from his internal befuddlement.  
  
"Do you wanna like… come babysit someday?" he asked very seriously, “I'm just watching you two and he seems to really click with you. He doesn't warm up to anyone. He is _my_ baby. Strictly, in his eyes."  
  
“Yes.” Derek didn’t even think about it. He had to spend time with Stiles and Hunter; girlfriend or not.  
  
"For real?" Stiles’ eyes literally sparkled. "Like you would actually-?"  
  
Derek couldn't help but laugh. "As long as it’s okay with your girlfriend, wife, whoever."  
  
The twinkle in Stiles’ eyes flashed to daggers, sitting back against the booth. "What makes you think I have a girlfriend? Or wife?"  
  
"Oh. I... I'm sorry. I assumed." Derek said, uncomfortable. “I apologize.”  
  
Stiles waved the apology away, pulling his plate of pancakes close. "You aren't the first. I'll forgive you for that but for clarity's sake, I do not have a girlfriend. I'm not open to talking about the past. So don't ask."  
  
"Noted." Derek blushed.


	3. CHAPTER TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe he was a murderer? He totally could be and would be. He would get away with it every time. With those looks? That blinding smile and immaculately, intimidatingly trimmed beard. Those hazel eyes that saw right through Stiles. Derek, who scared Stiles shitless in the middle of Beth's Breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaahhh i hope this is turning out okay. I'm kind of sensing a slow build but who knows??

  
"Ohh man." Stiles groaned, belly actually distended a bit from all the food he ate. He rubbed at the ache, feeling good and tired.  
  
“Seconded.” Derek raised his hand lazily.

"Shit. I was supposed save some of that." Stiles stared at the empty dishes.  
  
"We can go back to the store." Derek shrugged.  
  
Stiles actually glared a bit, bristling. "It's fine, Derek. I have food at home. You've done far enough for a stranger today."  
  
The waitress brought the bill over to their table, asking if either of them would like a drink to go.  
  
"I'd love an ice water, actually." Stiles nodded.  
  
The waitress nodded back and disappeared into the back.  
  
"We aren't strangers anymore." Derek smirked.  
  
"Cut the golden boy crap. We are definitely still strangers."  
  
Derek sat back from the table, giving Stiles that much more space and adjusting Hunter on his lap. "I'm sorry."  
  
Stiles waved his apology away and thanked the waitress as she returned with a Styrofoam cup of water. "If you are serious about baby sitting for me we should set up a date for us to hang out. So we can actually get to know each other."  
  
Derek smiled a bit sheepishly. “I actually don’t know really anything about babies but I’d be glad to come over and be of some help. I'm free any time for the next few days."  
  
"Would tomorrow be too soon?" Hunter let out a joyful little squawk, chewing on his fists as they stood up from the booth, getting ready to leave.  
“Tomorrow is not too soon. What time should I come to your place?" He asked as he passed Hunter to Stiles, grabbing the bill and heading to the cashier.  
  
"My place. Right. Uhh, noon? Here," Stiles dug his hand into his back pocket, pulling out the grocery list Derek had scribbled his number on, grabbing a pen from the cashier and jotting down his address and phone number. "Just... call or text before you come over."  
  
Stiles seemed really unsure of himself and Derek could hear his heart beating a bit faster than normal.  
  
"We can wait if you like? I don't want you to feel like you are obligated."  
  
"No. No it's fine. I could use the help. Just distracting Hunter for a few hours would be a gift."  
  
"If you are sure." Derek stuffed the paper back in his pocket as they walked out into the brisk air of the parking lot.  
  
"Absolutely." Stiles nodded stiffly.  
  
Hunter made uncomfortable little whining sounds, and Derek considered that he could hear Stiles’ heart rate, too.  
  
Derek followed Stiles to his car and was humored to see that he had parked next to Derek. He stood by as Stiles placed the carrier in the backseat and slid in to place Hunter inside.  
  
Hunter was not having it. He kicked and flailed as Stiles tried to place him inside. "Oh, come on. It's only for a few minutes."  
  
Hunter let out the same raspy wail that sounded painful on the throat but Stiles carried on, eventually managing to get Hunter buckled in. Once he threw a blanket over to cover him, he steadily calmed and went quiet.  
  
Derek shook his head, smiling again. "Well, I will see you tomorrow around noon." He saluted Stiles with two fingers and walked round to his own car.  
  
Stiles couldn't hide the look of envy when he realized the fancy black Camaro belonged to Derek. "You drive that?”  
  
Derek adorned a sheepish look, actually scuffing his boot on the black top. "Yeah. It helps me get around town well enough."  
  
"Uh-huh." Stiles shook his head. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
With that, Stiles got into his own rickety car and drove away.  
  
Derek couldn't help but wonder about Stiles and Hunter all day. It was so rare that he would run into another werewolf in town. His family had been the only ones in Beacon Hills for a very long time. It was even stranger that it would be a werewolf infant that he finds with a human parent; who may or may not even be aware of his child being a werewolf.  
  
Derek felt his heart skip. What if he really didn't know? How could he not? Was his ex girlfriend a werewolf in hiding? Was that why she wasn't there? Did she abandon them? Did she die from a werewolf bite? What was Stiles going to do if and when Hunter really started showing signs of being something other than human?  
  
Anxiety made Derek's heart rate pick up and he picked up his phone, needing to talk to his older sister Laura.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Laura. It's Derek."  
  
"Oh hey, Derek. What's up?" His sister's voice was bright and open.  
  
"I have something crazy to tell you. I don't even know if you can give me advice or... or what. It's just insane."  
  
"Ok... Are you alright?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine just... let me tell you. So, I met another werewolf today."  
  
"Really?" Laura didn't seem too interested. "A guy werewolf?"  
  
"No. A baby."  
  
"You found a baby werewolf?" Laura sounded puzzled.  
  
"Yeah. In the grocery store. Two months old. His dad is human, though. I'm not sure if he even knows his baby is a werewolf."  
  
"How could he not know his baby is a werewolf?" Laura laughed doubtfully.  
"I don't know. But he didn't seem to understand why he had a premature baby that is developing faster than other babies. But he also didn't seem surprised when the baby heard me over the restaurant."  
  
"Restaurant? I thought you were in a store?"  
  
"Yeah yeah I was. I took him to breakfast."  
  
"You took him for breakfast? You?" Laura laughed like it was the funniest thing she had heard. "What, you find a wolf baby and just had to not talk about it over coffee?"  
  
"I don't think they're in good shape, Laura. It was clear to me that the dad, Stiles, hadn't eaten in a few days. I've never seen someone actually fit the description of 'gaunt'."  
  
"So you, being the hero type, just had to do something, right? What, you gonna start going for play dates now?"  
  
"About that..."  
  
"Derek Hale, no fucking way." Laura bust up laughing again.  
  
"It's not funny! Do you have any advice or not?"  
  
"Nope. Nope. No advice. You're on your own baby bro." Laura giggled in the phone. He could just imagine her bent over, hair hiding her face as she laughed.  
  
"Typical." he scoffed, "Bye Laura."  
  
"Later." She hung up and left Derek alone in silence to contemplate.  
When he got home he opened the door to find his uncle, Peter, sitting on the couch, wheelchair unoccupied next to him.  
  
"Not feeling the crutches today?" Derek asked as he set his keys down on the table by the door.  
  
"Knees are bad." Peter shook his head.  
  
Derek made his way to the couch, sitting down next to Peter, not really watching whatever football game was rerunning. It was only the afternoon but he felt drained.  
  
Peter turned and gave him a funny look; one nostril pulled up like Derek stank.  
  
Derek raised his eyebrows. "What?"  
  
"Did you rob a daycare?"  
  
A burst of laughter escaped Derek's throat. "Interesting story, actually."  
  
He filled Peter in on his day and how he met Stiles, how worried he was for both of them if Stiles was uneducated about werewolves and how he felt like he had an irresistible pull towards them. He left out the bit where Stiles reminded him of a drunken fling.  
  
Peter sat there in thought for a while. "I'm curious as to this werewolf parent is. It’s so unlike a mother of any kind to abandon a baby but especially a werewolf mother. Plus, you'd think we'd know if they're from Beacon Hills."  
  
"I'm hoping I can figure that out, tomorrow. Why would they leave a child behind?"  
  
"Keep me in the loop. Not only am I very curious but this might actually be important to us." Peter tapped his knuckles on Derek's knee. Derek stayed quiet, chewing his cheek and staring blankly at the television.

 

* * *

  
  
"What did I just agree to? Fuck." Stiles whispered to himself as he sat in his home, Hunter sound asleep again on the living room floor on a blanket Stiles had laid out.  
  
He didn't know this Derek guy. He didn't know him at all. In fact, they didn't talk about Derek at all at the restaurant. Mostly Hunter. Stiles felt his stomach go a little cold. Who was this guy? Did he have a thing for poor single parents or something? Did he have a complex where he needed to help people he found worth of his pity? Did he have a thing for children? For infants even? Maybe he was a murderer. He totally could be and he would get away with it every time. With those looks, that blinding smile and immaculately, intimidatingly trimmed beard. Those hazel eyes that made Stiles’ core weak; Derek, who scared Stiles shitless with his generosity in the grocery line.  
  
He stared down at his sleeping baby. Hunter had never warmed up to someone like he had so instantly with Derek. Not even close. He had been very helpful as of late with who was safe company and who wasn't. If Hunter was right about Derek, he could be the best thing to happen to them.  
  
Was that a fair or safe idea to consider? This man who he had known for all of a few hours?  
  
"No. No." Stiles waved his train of thought away, rubbing his face.  
  
_You are in charge, Stiles. You've got this. He will be in your house under your surveillance. If you feel any more bad vibes, just boot 'im. Call your dad even. Yeah. You got this._  
  
"It'll be fine." He said out loud as he walked to the tiny bathroom, stripping his hoodie off to gaze at his reflection.  
  
"Yikes, Stilinski." he inspected his beard, deciding not to shave it. Not yet. But he could at least trim the scraggly hairs going awry. At some point a haircut would be under way.  
  
He tried not to stare at his reflection for too long. Taking care of the necessities and adamantly refusing to let his eyes wander below the neck. Trained himself not to acknowledge the heavy chest that felt foreign to him. He checked to see if Hunter was still asleep before jumping in the shower to wash away stink and stress.  
  
When he came out, rubbing himself down with a towel, he found Hunter awake and having rolled onto his belly, happy and content to mouth on a stuffed animal. When he spotted Stiles, he smiled and hid his face like he was bashful, but Stiles knew he was playing.  
  
Stiles got down on his hands and knees, stuffing his face into the carpet and then peeking up. When they made eye contact, Hunter giggled and hid his face again as well.  
  
They played their own rendition of peek-a-boo for a minute or so before Stiles stood back up, taking Hunter with him into the bedroom to change into some clean clothes as well as give Hunter a fresh diaper.  
  
Stiles checked the time and went back into the living room. Placing Hunter back on the blanket, he walked into the kitchen to grab a snack, aka a bag of grapes. He went back into the living room, laptop open and prepared for his two o’clock English class. Luckily it wasn't required for him to speak to anyone, just listen to the teacher and do his work.  
  
Stiles thanked his lucky stars that attendance wasn't something that needed to be called. He'd never been to a college campus so he wasn't sure if college teachers even bothered, but he was glad either way. No one would have to get his name wrong or try to pronounce and unintentionally slaughter his first name every time. That didn't save him from having the teacher try to say his name when he alerted the teacher for a question, though.  
  
"Stani- Stanishlaw?" she'd trip.  
  
Stiles would pinch his eyes shut and type instead of turning his mic on. "Just call me Stan. It's easier." Then plow on and ask his question.  
  
He was glad Hunter didn't seem to give a rat’s ass about the live class sessions. For all he knew Stiles just had the radio or TV playing. Just noise.  
It was about half an hour into his class that Hunter got really quiet, and then just as Stiles had really got a good focus going, he let out a hiccupping cry that Stiles always knew was his hungry cry.  
  
Stiles waited though; sometimes it was a fluke but Hunter only cried again, louder. A small burst of moisture soaked through Stiles’ hoodie and he huffed in disgust and set his laptop to the side, bending down to pick up Hunter to breastfeed him, cradling him in one arm, and taking notes with the other hand.  
  
After his classes were over, he spent most of the day cleaning. Well... nit picking, really. He wasn't a clean freak by any means - okay so he did have that obsessive deep cleaning phase while he was pregnant that he hadn’t quite shaken yet; down on his hands and knees with a toothbrush in the corners of the walls – but that was unimportant.  
  
Stiles let Hunter play in a laundry basket with his unmatched pairs of socks while he opened the windows and aired out the house, changing the sheets on his bed and trying to get the general smell of stale sweat and body odor out.  
  
Hunter made a face when Stiles set the old sheets somewhat near him, scrunching up his nose and mouth. Stiles stuck his tongue out at him.  
  
"Don't judge me. You're the one who poops yourself."  
  
Hunter sneezed, falling backwards in the laundry, little legs kicking up in the air. Stiles laughed and righted him again before standing behind the laundry basket and pushing it out into the kitchen while making racecar noises, much to Hunter's absolute delight.  
  
He wiped down the counter top and stove, using white vinegar and lemon juice instead of cleaning products that Hunter seemed to have some crazy sensitivities to.  
  
He carefully mopped as well and vacuumed the living room carpet, popping grapes in his mouth every few minutes.  
  
The bathroom didn't need too much prep other than taking out the trash and burning a candle, thank God.  
  
By the time he was done, it was six o’clock and Hunter as well as Stiles was hungry again. He looked inside his grape bag to see that only a few grapes were left in the bottom, wrinkled and unappetizing.  
  
Throwing the bag away, he placed Hunter in his high chair, humming to himself. “What for dinner, what for dinner?”

He opened the fridge and immediately spotted left over rice and chili. Bingo. On top of the fridge was a jar he had filled with cookies specifically made for helping him produce more milk. He opened the jar and took two.

He had plenty of baby food and baby cereal that his dad had brought by. He wasn't sure how he managed to get his hands on so much, but he guessed being the sheriff's kid still had its perks sometimes.  
  
Stiles had been trying to get Hunter to eat baby food and cereal on occasions, as the doctors had suggested he try since he was developing so rapidly, but he usually turned his nose up at it before Stiles even sets the jar near him.  
  
Even those little Vienna sausages weren't good enough for him. Stiles had to admit he secretly still loved those and didn't complain too much if Hunter turned them down because it meant a snack for Stiles.  
  
Hunter tolerated formula if Stiles insisted. Sometimes it was his saving grace if he had to feed in public. Hunter seemed to know the difference of when formula was his only option, though. Too smart for his own good and refused it at home.  
  
After Stiles had filled himself up on rice and chili, he took Hunter to bathe him. He didn't have one of those baby tubs where the babies were propped up for you so he had to fill the sink and place a hand at the small of his back to prevent him from tipping or accidentally hitting the faucet.  
Luckily this was something Hunter always enjoyed, and Stiles let him teeth on a washcloth as he was bathed in scentless baby soap. Hunter had cried and twisted the first time Stiles used scented shampoo. He was so sensitive to smells and aromas.  
  
It was only a little after seven when they were clean and dressed but Hunter was proving to be exhausted; slumped asleep in Stiles’ arms.  
  
Stiles was tired from a mentally engaging day and decided he was fine to go to bed, too. Setting his phone for seven and double checking it said "AM", he relaxed into his clean sheets, allowing Hunter's slow and deep breathing to lull him into sleep.


	4. CHAPTER THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek didn't seem the judgemental type. He was very clearly gay and into Stiles in one way or another. No straight man would insist on feeding and babysitting a random single dad's child for the sake of being kind, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I feel about this chapter. I tried to fill in some back story. I feel like it was more dialogue than actual story, and it's really long. I may come back and touch it up.  
> Non-beta'd
> 
> I dont know really anything about babies, Im just applying what I read on google. Hunter is two months old but since werewolves age quicker in this story, he resembles and acts closer to four months. 
> 
> There is a very brief explicit scene towards the end.

** DEC 2 **

Derek woke around nine in the morning feeling twitchy. He was too nervous to properly get dressed so he took a jog through the woods behind his house for half an hour. Afterwards he felt sane and ready to take the day sensibly. He showered, allowing the hot water to pull tension from his neck and shoulders.  
  
He turned on the television while he ate breakfast, trying to distract himself from the anxiety of meeting Stiles.  
  
Peter caught him eyeing himself in a mirror, holding up different shirts and smirked from outside the bedroom door. "Is this a date?"  
  
Derek jumped, blushing. "No. No it is not. I wasn't-"  
  
Peter raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
Derek huffed and threw the shirts onto his bed, walking back to his closet. He closed his eyes and grabbed the first shirt he touched in his closet.

"It's not a date. I'm going over to watch Hunter so Stiles can have a break from parenting for a few hours. I just want to make a... non-threatening perception."  
  
He pulled on the shirt, which happened to be soft, worn and grey along with a navy blue hoodie, deciding to leave the leather jacket behind for once.  
  
When he started eyeing which cologne to use, Peter snorted, "Just go before you forget to _not_ buy him flowers."  
  
Derek managed to blush again and quickly walked passed Peter. "You're projecting. I don't even know him, really."  
  
"Right," Peter said, rolling his wheelchair into the kitchen. "That's why you took him on a surprise breakfast date. With a baby. Like a good public citizen."  
Derek rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, I did something nice for someone. He was the one who asked me to come over. I didn't invite myself."  
  
It was a little before eleven o’clock and he looked at the crumpled piece of paper with Stiles' phone number and address tacked to his fridge. He typed Stiles' address into his phone's GPS. It said Stiles was about thirty minutes away. That was fine. He was making perfect time.  
  
He pulled up his text messages and entered Stiles' phone number.  
  
**Hey, this is Derek. I'm about thirty minutes from you. Still want me to come over?**  
  
Derek snatched up his keys and, waving to Peter, told him, "Call or text if you need anything."  
  
To which Peter waved and mimicked, “Yes, mother” and Derek left out the front door. Just as he reached his Camaro outside, received a text.  
  
_**Yep. appreciate you texting me :) see you in a bit**_  
  
Derek received another text as he was settling down in his Camaro.  
  
**_Text me when you get here. Hunters asleep._**  
  
Something about this made Derek's heart swell and the emotion was so unexpected he looked around to see if anyone had witnessed him smiling like a dumb ass, then remembered he was in his car with tinted windows.  
  
He cleared his throat and started the engine, backing out of the driveway and heading down the street.

* * *

  
  
Stiles set his phone aside, taking a deep breath with the knowledge that Derek was on his way. He glanced down at Hunter who was currently nursing and prayed he had his fill before Derek arrived.  
  
Generally Hunter would nurse for about ten minutes but it wasn't unusual for him to nurse longer. When he had a growth spurt at one month old - much to the doctors' bewilderment considering most babies didn't have a growth spurt till three months - Hunter wanted to be nursed every forty five minutes and generally had been on each nipple for at least twenty minutes.  
  
Stiles had ached with how much milk he had to produce; his chest sore both from nursing and how quickly they began filling. Not to mention his appetite sky rocketed almost as much as when he had been pregnant; having to constantly replenish himself.  
  
Even after Hunter’s growth spurt stopped and he went back to feeding around every two and a half hours, Stiles was producing too much milk and he had to start using a pump, which he luckily received through the donations his father had set up in secret. So, he pumped the extra milk that Hunter wasn't consuming and saved it for later.  
  
He was dead tired from having to wake up at four in the morning to nurse Hunter and pump the other side of his chest afterwards to freeze it but he was glad he had prepared and pumped that morning as well. A bottle with six ounces of milk currently in the back of the freezer, date written on it and hopefully out of sight with others he had filled over the past few days.  
  
He had two bottles that were thawing in the fridge, dates rubbed off to hopefully fool Derek into thinking it was formula. He could give that to Hunter while Derek was there. Hell, Derek could give it to him himself and if Stiles was really lucky and Hunter and Derek hit it off again, he might be able to sneak off somewhere to pump later.  
  
Nursing - he refused to call it "breastfeeding" - was a very odd and controversial experience for himself. He felt very emotionally connected and intimate with his baby when he nursed and he loved the sense of security it gave him to have his baby snuggled close to his heart, even if that's not how it felt at first. He had been adamant that he would nurse Hunter if he could. He felt it was important for development.  
  
That hadn't stopped him from letting the tears silently fall down his cheeks the first time he tried to nurse; his mid-wife trying to awkwardly comfort him through the process, as well as after when the milk wasn't coming out because he was so stressed and pumping was painful.  
  
With all of that came a lot of dysphoria and as soon as Hunter unlatched from Stiles' nipple, he felt disgusted and ashamed of his chest and the literal weight of it.  
  
He hated it when he leaked at the slightest cry from Hunter or if he even thought about nursing. In fact he tried his best to avoid nursing in the same spot of the house everyday so he wouldn't associate it with nursing and accidentally leak just by sitting in that associated spot.  
  
Cruelly enough, it had been suggested to him to snack on handfuls of nuts while he nursed but he had to stop because he would reach for the tin of nuts and spring a fucking leak.

He hated it when Hunter had that growth spurt and his chest, which had graciously remained almost unnoticeable before and even during his pregnancy, had swelled rapidly, to a size that was difficult to hide without a binder. Obviously a binder was not an option for him and wouldn't be until Hunter stopped nursing and he stopped producing milk all together.  
  
Stiles was grateful Hunter had been born in October and was really not looking forward to the day when it reached above seventy degrees outside; a time when it would be too hot to wear a concealing hoodie, and reduced to begging his father or his friends to bring him groceries so he wouldn't have to leave the house.  
  
Hunter fidgeted and made a frustrated grunt, looking up at him with a one-eyed glare that spoke volumes as Stiles' stress restricted the flow of milk. He bit back a laugh - honestly where did he get that from? - and took a deep breath, stretching his neck to relax and felt the flow return to normal.  
  
He picked up a bra pad he had waiting next to him on the bed and some medical tape. Taping the bra pad over his unoccupied nipple to hopefully soak up any leaking that might occur while Derek was there.  
  
His phone chirped at him about ten minutes before twelve to see Derek had texted him.

  
**I think I'm here**  
  
_Shit_.

 

* * *

 

  
Derek parked in the driveway next to Stiles' car, waiting for a text from Stiles to confirm and allow him inside.  
  
It was a very small house. Derek guessed one bedroom and one bathroom. It wasn't falling apart by any means but it was old and faded by weather, pollution and sun exposure.  
  
It didn't seem like what his family may have labeled as a "bad neighborhood". It was quiet and peaceful. Distant sounds of children playing a few blocks over could be heard.  
  
He entertained himself by blowing out hot breath into the air of December, remembering how he would pretend to be a dragon as a kid. Billows of "smoke" clouding his face.  
  
His phone dinged at him and he opened the text.  
  
**_I see you. Just come inside._**  
  
Derek felt his face go red and turned sharply to walk up the couple of steps to the back door of Stiles' house.  
  
He scuffed snow off his boots and opened the door, pleased to feel warmth and the smell of coffee bloom over his face.  
  
He spotted Stiles sitting directly in front of him on the couch, wearing the same ragged hoodie he met him in, sweats and wiping Hunter's face of what he presumed was spit up.  
  
"Hey, it's me." Derek waved.  
  
"Hi, Derek, come in. Sorry I couldn't come to the door."  
  
"No worries." Derek said, shutting the door. He saw a small shoe rack consisting a pair of worn tennis shoes, converse and snow boots. Derek took his boots off which were quickly defrosting and soaking into the carpet in front of the door and placed them on the rack.  
  
He took in Stiles' appearance as he tended to Hunter. He seemed a little restless but that could also just be how Stiles was. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were pink like he had woken fairly recently but the dark circles under his eyes had diminished a bit. Stiles' long hair was messy and pulled back in a tie.  
  
It was an odd experience to walk inside, with all the lights turned off, and it still felt brighter inside than out. Maybe he was just projecting emotions, he wasn’t sure. Other than the strong brew of coffee, the house smelled like it was freshly cleaned, and while Derek appreciated the care Stiles clearly put into preparing for his visit, he was disappointed that he wouldn't get to focus on the smells of the two occupants. Of course the cinnamon and musk smell of Stiles was present, but it was faint.  
  
"Well sit down. Unless you're going to be my new coat rack." Stiles laughed, patting the couch and turning Hunter around to see Derek.  
  
Derek made his way over, smiling at Hunter brightly. Hunter's eyes landed on Derek and he jumped like he was given a birthday surprise. Big, gummy grin going across his face, squealing a greeting.  
  
Derek feigned gasping in excitement and Stiles couldn't help but laugh openly at Hunter's reaction.  
  
Hunter quickly bounced on Stiles' lap and reached out for Derek, who took him into his own lap, settling on the couch better to chat nonsense with him. Derek had no real clue what he was doing. His knowledge about babies in general was null. He only had memories of how his parents and other family treated him, his sisters and cousins when it came to difficult werewolf behavior tantrums.  
  
"Can I get you some coffee? I don't know what the "good kind" is and I can’t drink it so…”  
  
"Sure, I wouldn't turn down a cup."  
  
Stiles got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, pouring a mug full of coffee. "Do you like cream or sugar?"  
  
"Sugar, please." Derek said. Hunter let out a big yawn since he was full and slumped against Derek.  
  
When Stiles came out he saw Hunter dozing and shook his head incredulously, setting down Derek's mug on a small table behind him.  
  
"So, I realized after I left Beth's Breakfast yesterday that I don't actually know anything about you." Stiles crossed his legs on the couch, watching him critically.  
  
"Mm. That's right we didn't really talk about me did we? Uh... what do you want to know?"  
  
"Anything. Everything," Stiles shrugged, crossing him arms across his chest and pulling his legs up. "Tell me something you want me to know and we'll go from there."  
  
_I'm a werewolf. You remind me of a drunken fling I had back in March. Care to explain?_  
  
"My family died in a fire. Let's just get that out of the way." Derek said, a little more bluntly than he intended.  
  
Stiles seemed to choke on his tongue, blinking at Derek before taming his expression. "Okay... am I allowed to ask about that?" he laughed nervously.  
  
"It was arson. I was twelve. It happened while me and my sister were at the store. Me, my sister Laura, my youngest sister Cora and my uncle Peter were the only ones to survive out of eleven." He tried to say it with some kind of emotion but he had told this story enough times that it came out bland.  
  
Stiles still seemed shocked. "So nine people in your family died?"  
  
"Yeah." Derek mumbled. He looked down at Hunter who was deep in sleep now and had to resist touching the soft head of pitch-black hair.  
  
"Wait... are you _Derek Hale_?"  
  
"You know me?"  
  
"Dude," Stiles scoffed. "Everyone who was in Beacon Hills during that fire knows who you are. Your name, at least. My dad's the sheriff that investigated your family's case. Actually..." Stiles looked a little sheepish, twisting his hoodie sleeve. "I was there when they brought you and Laura in. I wouldn't blame you if you don't remember."  
  
For a moment Stiles looked like he let something slip and fear flickered across his eyes before schooling his expression.  
  
Derek's eyebrows pinched together as he heard Stiles' heart skip and then skyrocket. He did his best to not stare and make him panic no matter how curious he might be.  
  
Derek he had to agree, though. He was barely functional when they brought him and Laura in to sit down at the station. Voices wouldn't even register properly and sounded like unintelligible noise no matter how hard he tried to focus. He didn't remember seeing a little boy.  
  
"Yeah I don't remember. Sorry." Derek shrugged.  
  
Stiles sat in silence for a minute and Derek listened to Stiles' heart return to a fairly normal pace. He couldn’t help examine Stiles’ face; his eyes were bright and rich in whiskey color just like Hunter's. His nose was slightly upturned and could only be described as cute. His lips were red with a perfect cupid bow shape. His bottom lip was full and currently being chewed thoughtfully.  
  
Derek had to look away at the sight, feeling his neck blush, schooling his inner thoughts harshly.  
  
"My mom died." Stiles said, not meeting Derek's eyes.  
  
Derek sighed sympathetically. Knowing from experience it was useless to say "I'm sorry".  
  
"Frontotemporal Dementia. She died when I was nine." Stiles was quiet for a minute before speaking again. "Did you go to Beacon High?"  
  
"Yup." Derek said, blinking the gloom away. "I had to graduate when I was eighteen because of my family. Lots of therapy, lots of moving around. Some family friends took us in but I wasn't ready for school for a while."  
  
"I didn't have a choice, being the sheriff's son and all. Wouldn't look good if the sheriff's son went to juvenile court for skipping school."  
  
"How did that work out?" Derek cringed at the idea of going to school in the state he had been in for the first year after his family's death.  
  
"Oh, y'know. Depression, anxiety, mood swings, temper, panic attacks in the classroom. All great fuel for bullies." Stiles’ voice wavered a bit at the end and Derek wanted to reach out and comfort him.  
  
"That's trash."  
  
"In the past. All in the past." Stiles adjusted his posture, clearing his throat, “Tell me something else."  
  
"Well my uncle Peter lives with me, now after spending six years in coma. He has to use crutches and a wheelchair when his knees are particularly bad but all's well and good with him."  
  
"Where do you live?"  
  
"Beacon Heights."  
  
"Nice. That's a really good area."  
  
"It's alright. I'll dispel the myth that there is no crime up there. The criminals just pay their way out."  
  
Stiles laughed bitterly. "Do you work?"  
  
"I do."  
  
Stiles squinted suspiciously. "Are you going to tell me what it is?"  
  
Derek felt his cheeks pink a bit. "I uh... I sculpt. Carve, specifically. Home decor, jewelry, furniture, stuff like that."  
  
"Ah, a crafty man. That's why you smell like sawdust then." Stiles laughed as a blush bloomed on his cheeks as well.  
  
Derek laughed genuinely, bouncing Hunter on his chest who stretched and yawned but stayed asleep.  
  
Stiles checked the time and flinched. "Oh! I have class." he looked at Derek and Hunter. "I have math and history. They only take about an hour and a half altogether. If he seems hungry when he wakes up there is a bottle of milk in the fridge you can warm up. I'll be right here if you need help."  
  
"And what kind of babysitter needs help babysitting?" Derek joked.  
  
Stiles raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Right. I'll ask if I need anything."  
  
"Good man." Stiles pulled his laptop over and opened it.  
  
Derek spent a good half hour just chilling with Hunter, occasionally adjusting him into more comfortable positions and listening to Stiles's history teacher drone on.  
  
When Hunter woke, he made soft groaning sounds that Derek sympathized with. Waking up was always a pain.  
  
When Hunter saw Derek, he blinked slowly much like a cat and rested his head back on Derek's chest, taking his time to properly wake up.  
  
A few minutes later he was fussy and reaching in the general direction of the floor where a blanket and toys had been laid out. Derek obliged and gently placed him on the blanket, sitting cross-legged next to him. It wasn't like Hunter could really play beyond being entertained by Derek's antics, but Derek didn't mind. He tickled Hunter with a stuffed animal for a few minutes as quietly as he could and even played Hunter's rendition of peek-a-boo. The way that Hunter played it was very common for werewolf infants and Derek was left again to wonder whether or not Stiles had any idea.  
  
He heard Stiles sigh as the history teacher ended the session and closed the laptop to look down at the pair. Hunter waved by flexing his tiny hands and made a little squawking sound.  
  
"Hey, baby." Stiles said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with a small smile.  
Hunter babbled as if he had a lot to talk about.  
  
"Is Derek a cool guy?" Stiles asked with a big smile.  
  
Hunter made a rocking motion that somewhat resembled nodding, drooling on himself.  
  
Stiles laughed, standing up from the couch and turning away to stretch. "It's nearly three o’clock. You hungry, Derek?"  
  
"I wouldn't turn down food." Derek says, standing up to stretch as well.  
Stiles walked to the kitchen, arms folded, doing an odd sort of dance out of sight where Derek hears him open the fridge. "Today's specials are... uhh... I can make chicken and potatoes, I can make burgers, I have mac n cheese,” he gestured to the cupboards.  
  
"Mac n cheese."  
  
"Mac n cheese it is! I’ve got plenty of fruits and vegetables, too so don’t feel obligated to eat nothing else. Hunter loves mac n cheese don'tcha, boo?" Stiles called from the kitchen.  
  
"Isn't it a bit early to be giving him solid food?" Even for a fast developing werewolf baby it was far too soon.  
A beat of silence before Stiles popped into view. "Just kidding, haa! Sssuckerr..." the last word fizzled out weakly as Stiles disappeared out of view again, pulling a bowl out from a cupboard, filling it with warm water.  
  
He opened the fridge to grab a bottle of milk and placed it in the bowl of water to warm up. Then he finally placed a pot on the stove to cook the mac n cheese.  
Derek pinched his eyebrows together, turning to look back at Hunter who was watching him while slobbering on a toy. "Your dad is weird."  
  
Hunter hummed noncommittally.

 

* * *

 

  
You are being reckless! You've nearly given yourself away twice! Stiles tried to stay composed as he stirred the mac n cheese. He was just glad that Derek wasn't asking him to explain because what logical answer could he give him?  
  
As appreciative as he was for Derek to be willing to be here, it was very difficult trying to be stealth in his own house. He had to make sure his hoodie was constantly pulled away from his body and that he didn't sit up too straight or slump too much. He had to be careful what direction he faced Derek and had to try and vaguely have an arm always raised if he was on his feet to try and prevent the hoodie from draping over his chest.  
  
Stiles struggled to get his mind under control. You're fine, Stiles. You're fine.  
  
"Hey," Stiles jumped to see Derek looking at him. Quickly crossing an arm over his chest as subtly as possible, "Are you okay?"  
  
Damn. Stiles knew that his emotions were often palpable to certain people but sensing it through a wall was new.  
  
"I'm fine I'm fine. I- I have exams coming up, that's all. Lots to do."  
  
Derek didn't seem convinced and leaned against the doorway. "If I'm making you uncomfortable I can leave. Don't feel obligated to keep me around. This is your home."  
  
Stiles shook his head. "No. No. I promise. It's not you."  
  
Hunter made a fussy whining sound now that he wasn't the center of attention and Derek looked over his shoulder.  
  
Stiles seemed to soften a bit, “I wouldn’t have you here if Hunter didn’t like you; if I didn’t like you.”

Derek swallowed thickly, trying to remain cool.  
  
“When I said he never warms up to people, I wasn't kidding. I trust my dad with my life and this town. But Hunter will only tolerate his presence. Never mind holding him."  
  
"Well I'm glad I’m a special case." Derek tried to not let Stiles’ words go to his head.  
  
Hunter gave a cry of irritation that transitioned into a cry that almost sounded gravely. Something he usually reserved for needing changing.  
  
"The mac n cheese is ready. The bowls are in the cupboard up there and the spoons are in that drawer. I'd serve you some myself but," he had to almost yell over the cries of Hunter. He really had a pair of lungs. Stiles went into the living room, picking up Hunter and disappearing into his bedroom.  
  
Derek had to admit that he wasn't going to complain being excused from diaper duty. He knew it wouldn't stay that way if he became regular company. He served himself a bowl, being careful to take a human portion instead of what his own greedy werewolf eyes told him he should take, and served some up in a bowl for Stiles as well.  
  
When Stiles came back out, Hunter was quiet again and Stiles smelled faintly of poop and the overwhelming scent of baby wipes. Derek supposed that was something he'd have to get used to. He handed Stiles his bowl of mac n cheese, who thanked him and headed back to the couch to open up his laptop again for Math.  
  
Hunter had other things to say about that, though and squealed indignantly as he watched Stiles shovel mac n cheese into his mouth.  
  
"Baby you can't have this." Stiles said through a mouth of food. "I'm sure your milk is warm by now, though."  
  
Hunter's pout was for the records and Derek choked on a laugh, setting his bowl aside, "I'll feed him."  
  
He got up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle and drying it on his hoodie sleeve before coming back to the couch.  
  
Hunter spotted the bottle and at first let out a cry of displeasure. When Derek pulled him into his lap and brought the bottle near his face, Hunter shrieked again.  
  
Stiles hoped this wasn't an obvious clue that Hunter didn't often drink from bottles. He guessed that it would have to become a regular practice of giving him milk in bottles so that Derek might stay unaware about it not being formula.  
  
Derek didn't seem to think anything suspicious, chalking it up to Hunter wanting to eat what everyone else was eating. He gently but insistently pressed the nipple into the corner of his mouth and Hunter pulled away and let out a near ear-piercing scream that melted into angry wails.  
  
Derek decided it couldn't hurt to try his father's method and pulled Hunter up into his lap to face him, ignoring Stiles' apologies. He flashed his eyes at Hunter, a quick red burst that he knew Stiles wouldn't catch and slipped his alpha tone very, very subtly into, "None of that".  
  
Hunter didn't miss it and he stared up at Derek in surprise, little huffing breaths left of his quick tantrum before accepting the bottle without complaint. Derek turned him round to sit securely in his lap.  
  
He felt eyes on him and turned to see Stiles making a face of disgusted incredulity. "What the hell, man? What are you? The baby whisperer?"  
  
Derek shrugged, feigning ignorance.  
  
"Well, since you're clearly set for a few minutes, I'm going to take a shower. My Math class won't miss me. It's not even a live session. Here is a towel for burping."  
  
"Okay, yeah we're good here." Derek said, spreading the towel across his lap.  
  
Stiles went into his bedroom to grab a towel, clean hoodie and pants as well as his favorite throw blanket, hoping Derek didn't ask as he walked to the bathroom.  
  
He stripped off his t-shirt, turned on the shower to as hot as it could go and opened the cabinet under the sink to pull out a bag with his pump inside.  
  
His chest was sore and heavy; both bra pads damp with milk when he peeled them off. Listening to him cry and holding off from feeding him had caused him to leak. Damn him and his oxytocin sensitive chest. He couldn't wait for this trigger sensitive streak to pass.  
  
He sat down on the toilet and pulled his favorite throw blanket over himself to ensure that he felt warm and content. Screwing a baby bottle to the pump and attaching it to his nipple, he turned it on, glad for the shower to drown out the noise. Again, he cringed in pain at first and then sighed as the milk flowed freely.  
  
He could only spend so long in the bathroom before Derek might grow suspicious and Hunter would make a fuss, let alone the fact that the bathroom got hot and humid fast. He pumped the one side that Hunter hadn't nursed that day, sighing as a literal weight was lifted.  
  
When he filled the bottle to about five ounces, he stopped, screwing a lid onto the bottle and storing it in an insulated lunch bag, stuffing the pump back in its respective bag and hid it under the sink.  
  
He got in the shower to remove any access milk and complete the illusion that showering was all he did; not bother to bathe beyond scentless body wash. He had to be careful about scrubbing his chest as the heat of the water and pressure of his hands made it all too easy to leak and drip down his body.  
  
When he was done he dried himself off as best he could, placing fresh bra pads to his nipples and pulling clothes on.  
  
When Stiles came out he went to the freezer as casually as possible, hiding the bottle of milk and writing the date on it before stuffing it into the back.

* * *

 

  
Derek finally said his goodbyes to Stiles and Hunter around seven after dinner when they both started yawning. Derek was tired himself and ready to go home and crash.  
  
"I hope I was helpful to you, today." Derek said as he pulled his snow boots on.  
  
"You were. I appreciate the help however minimal and the company you gave me, too. I'll get in touch with you about when you can come over again, okay?"  
  
Derek smiled, nodding. "You have my number now. I'll see you sometime soon." He looked at Hunter and tickled under his chin, who kicked happily. "Later, Clifford."  
  
He shut the door behind him, walking down the driveway to his Camaro. It was already dark and Derek felt good. Tired but good and as he drove back home he prayed that Stiles would get in contact soon.  
  
He hadn't realized just how tired he was; his body ached from sitting all day but he guessed he was more anxious than he realized. Trying his best to make a good impression.  
  
He stumbled through the doorway of his house, kicking his boots off and making his way to the bathroom, passing by Peter on the couch.  
  
"Phew! Jesus did you hold that baby all day?" Peter rubbed his nose.  
  
"Pretty much." Derek grumbled, groggy.  
  
He didn't mind the smell, honestly. He couldn't blame Peter, though, who wasn't quite getting Hunter's whole scent; just the baby wipes and dirty diaper smell. He couldn't smell the cinnamon that was sewn through both Hunter and Stiles. He couldn't smell the odd pine scent so much like his own.  
  
He couldn’t smell that amazing scent that poured off of Stiles when he walked back into the living room after a shower. Nearly choking Derek.  
The heat from the shower had enhanced his natural musk and he could tell that Stiles didn't wash with scented soaps. Therefore his smell wasn't overridden and he swore that he smelled something else among the cinnamon musk that had made his heart race and his skin itch.  
  
Derek thought over this while he was in the shower. Why he felt the way he did and how it affected his feelings for Stiles. Stiles, who had the most intense whiskey eyes and perfect cupid bow lips. Smelling like he belonged in Derek's arms. Like he’d already been there.  
  
Derek grunted softly and realized that he was hard. Sighing, he took himself in hand, stroking along the head a few times before pulling in long strokes from root to tip. He let himself think of Stiles, of shoving his nose into that neck to properly smell him, maybe taste him. He let himself imagine that he would take Stiles slowly. Not like that club fling that haunted him for several weeks afterwards.  
  
Derek reached the edge quickly, embarrassed he was thinking about Stiles like this. Cum oozed, thick and lazy from his cock to wash down the shower drain.

 

* * *

 

Stiles was dead fucking tired. He really did appreciate Derek's help. Because of him he was able to focus a bit more on his studies with him distracting Hunter but he was no less exhausted. Having to stay a secret in his own home was difficult and nerve racking. He'd slipped up several times and didn't know how long he could keep this mask up if Derek was going to be there often.  
  
To be fair, Derek didn't seem the judgmental type. He was very clearly gay and into Stiles in one way or another. No straight man would insist on feeding and babysitting a random single dad's child for the sake of being kind, right? But then again, being gay had nothing to do with whether someone was going to discriminate against transgender people. Stiles sighed, rubbing his face and scooting deeper under the comforter.  
  
Hunter was already fast asleep, content and at peace. Stiles placed a hand on Hunter's belly, rubbing his thumb across the delicate roundness of it. If Derek was a jerk, Hunter would know. But then again, was that fair or safe to depend on his two month old to judge people's character?  
  
Stiles sighed again and Hunter kicked once in his sleep, eyebrows knitting together. Stiles closed his eyes, willing himself to not think about Derek for just a few minutes and go to sleep. Time would only tell.


	5. CHAPTER FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek insisted the knife missed him, but he knew he saw the knife sink into Derek's side. He saw the blood bubble around the hilt, on the blade, and on his shirt. The same blood currently soaking and staining the carpet. It was no illusion. 
> 
> What the fuck are you, Derek Hale?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> considering i wrote this in a day, it feels really rushed  
> but im enjoying the direction im going and we got a little action scene and drama so that's something xD

** DEC 6 **

Stiles didn't text Derek the next day. Or the next day. Or the day after that.  
  
Derek began to worry that he had fucked up somehow. Where had he gone wrong? Was he too forceful when he gave Hunter the bottle? Should he have insisted on changing his diaper? Probably.  
  
Derek paced, staring at his phone on the kitchen counter; debating on texting Stiles himself. He didn't exactly know what Stiles' life entailed every day and he could just be busy.  
  
Isn't that what I'm for? If he's busy he could ask me to come over. Derek pinched himself. Don't be so entitled. It's not about you.  
  
"What is up your ass, Derek?" He heard Peter call down the hallway, his wheelchair rolling into view, "Are you pining over that kid?"  
  
"He's not a kid." Derek paused. Actually, he had no idea how old Stiles was. Shit. He hoped he was at least eighteen.  
  
"But you are indeed pining." Peter said, pointedly.  
  
"I just... want to know how he's doing." Derek sat down, still staring at his phone like he was waiting for it to do backflips.  
  
"Give him time. If you made a good impression, he'll tell you when he needs you. Besides, it might be best if you wait to see him till after tomorrow, right?" Peter said, opening the fridge to grab a pitcher of orange juice.  
  
“After tomorrow? Why?"  
  
Peter shook his head, shooting Derek a look as he poured the juice into a glass. "Perceptive as always. The full moon?"  
  
"Oh." Derek wilted; full moons weren't really a problem for him anymore. Hadn't been for a while.  
  
He froze, then looked up at Peter in horror.  
"What?" Peter licked his orange mustache away.  
  
"How old do born werewolves generally shift at a full moon?"  
  
"It depends. I didn’t shift until I was six months old." Peter said as he put the juice back in the fridge.  
  
"Yes, but I was born shifted, remember?"  
  
"That’s not uncommon, Derek. It’s stressful being born and you were born shifted because you were born on the full moon. After that you didn’t shift until you were six months, just like me. It also depends on the time of the year, whether they're exposed to other werewolves, what rank those werewolves are, whether there's a shift in the safety of the pack or home. Why?"  
  
"Hunter. Remember I told you he's a werewolf?"  
  
Peter's mouth dropped open in understanding. "Ah, right. How old is he?"  
  
"Two months. I can only assume his mother was a werewolf but she isn’t here. I don’t know if he has been exposed before meeting me. Stiles did say that he was born shifted.” Derek chewed his thumb nervously.  
  
"I thought you said Stiles didn’t know about werewolves?”

Derek waved away Peter’s words. “He doesn’t. He told me that the doctor called Hunter ugly when he was born. I can only assume it was because he was shifted.”

“Hmm. Honestly I don’t know, Derek. Hunter's situation is pretty specific and unique. Born wolves don't generally live without a pack. The less contact they have with werewolves, the less likely they will shift as infants. Even pups with packs generally don't shift under the full moon until six months but considering you are a new change in his life... I don't know , Derek."  
  
Derek put his face in his hands. "I have to go there. I need to be there tomorrow. I need to know that they will be okay. If something happens I need to be there. I need to keep both of them safe."  
  
Peter sighed like he hated the idea but refused to argue. "Be careful, Derek. You know as well as I do that werewolves aren't the only monsters out on the full moon. In fact you might not be the only one who knows there's a newborn werewolf in town."

* * *

  
  
At four in the morning, Stiles was awakened rudely by one of the worst cries he has ever heard come out of Hunter's mouth. It was reminiscent of an angry cat and he had to take a moment to let his heart settle.  
  
He pushed himself up into a sitting position, placing pillows behind his back and scooping up Hunter. He lifted his shirt to push Hunter to his nipple, who made an odd, audible sniffing sound and latched on viciously.  
  
"Ngh! Fuck- Jesus, kiddo." Stiles threw his head back as he fought to yank Hunter away, "Don't rip my nipple off."  
  
Hunter for the most part quieted save for a barely audible consistent growling, gurgling sound. Stiles didn't think much of it - only wishing that he wouldn't do it as it created a vibrating sensation he didn't appreciate.

 

* * *

**DEC 7**

  
The day of the full moon, Derek woke feeling restless and itchy under the skin; aching from the energy. Peter was using his crutches as expected. The full moon gave him that little extra boost to move around mostly painlessly.  
  
Derek ran behind the house for a good hour to relieve himself of tension and settle some of the unusual urges he tended to get on the full moon; such as marking the perimeter of the property to any wandering werewolves or other supernaturals. It was debatably a smart move; a warning that an alpha – not including Peter because you couldn’t pay Derek to carry a jar of pee down here - occupied this area. Go Away.  
  
When he returned back to the house, sweaty and panting, he checked his phone to see that he had a voicemail and text from Stiles.  
The text was a simple:  
  
**_Do you want to come over?_**  
  
Derek felt adrenaline course through him all over again and he quickly played the voicemail.  
  
"Heya, Derek." Stiles' voice wavered a bit and Derek could clearly hear what sounded like a very distraught baby in the background, "Just wanted to call and say that I'm going to be taking Hunter to a park today since the snow melted. He's really restless and I think he needs the fresh air."  
  
A fresh scream sounded from the background and Derek guessed that Stiles had left him in the bedroom while he called. "We could really use your magic haha. Umm... yeah I mean, text me or give me a call if you want to come. Uhh, bye."  
  
Derek immediately replied to Stiles' text.  
  
**Yes. Which park? I'll be there.**  
  
He made his way inside in a rush, showering and putting on fresh clothes. When he checked his phone again, there was a text saying:  
  
**_Corner Park in Beacon Hills_**  
  
Derek rushed out the door and into his Camaro, doing his best not to speed as he made his way to Stiles.

* * *

  
  
Stiles had thankfully managed to get Hunter's screaming under control; bundled in a thick onesie, baby moccasins and strapped securely in a baby carrier Stiles was wearing across his chest. Hunter was resting his head against Stiles’ neck, nose tucked into the hot skin and whimpering softly in his sleep. A big throw blanket draped over the top of Hunter and tied behind Stiles' neck like a bib. Whatever. It worked. Hunter was happy, that's all that mattered. No one was really out to witness this odd fashion choice anyway.  
Stiles looked up ahead of him to see a man sitting at a picnic table by the playground. He couldn't see the man's face since he wasn't facing him but as he started walking on the icy grass, the man turned and waved. Stiles could clearly see Derek under the scarf. He thought it was a little odd that Derek heard him from so far away, but the world was nearly silent, his own panting breath loud in his ears. He beamed, waving back.  
  
When he reached Derek, he whispered, "Hi, I'm glad you came. Should we walk down this trail over here?"  
  
Derek nodded, "After you." Following Stiles towards a “trail” that was, in reality, a wide paved sidewalk leading to a bridge across a creek to cut across to the other side of the park. The cement had been thoroughly coated in salt and crunched under their winter boots, but Derek kept a keen eye on Stiles' feet anyway in case he slipped.  
  
They walked in silence for a few minutes and after a while Derek lost the anxious butterflies that had bloomed in his stomach and made his eyes flash bursts of red, for which he was wearing sunglasses in case. He wasn't getting any vibes from Stiles that he hated Derek or was mad at him. He seemed to genuinely enjoy his company.  
  
"So, any plans for the holidays?" Derek spoke softly.  
  
"Uh... yeah. Yeah I'm... I think I'm going to my dads." Stiles said, not really looking at Derek, who heard the blip in his pulse.  
  
"Are you looking forward to it?" Derek tried to remain stoic and casual.  
  
"I mean he's my dad, y'know? He's all I got." Stiles shrugged, "Besides Hunter, obviously."  
  
"I don't think you've told me much about your dad." Derek said as they reached the bridge.  
  
"There's not a lot to really talk about. I moved out right after high school. He was a good dad. He is a good dad. He's a good grandpa, too. We just don't talk a lot, I guess. He's still the sheriff and he drops off baby food and diapers every now and then."  
  
"Is it tense between you two?"  
  
"I don't re-"  
  
As he had predicted, he saw Stiles' foot slip and reached out to catch him and hold him upright.  
  
The jolt shocked Hunter who stirred and whined unhappily.  
  
Derek lifted the blanket to check on him and had to school his face into stoicism.  
  
His question about Hunter being able to shift on a full moon was answered pretty directly. His tiny baby features gnarled and a single yellow eye glaring at Derek like death.  
  
Derek patted the blanket down again and smiled warmly at Stiles, gesturing that they continue their walk.  
  
_Jesus fucking Christ._  
  
"Thanks. Sorry, I don't really want to talk about my dad right now." Stiles sniffed and Derek couldn't tell if it was from the cold or if he had touched a sore spot in Stiles' past.  
  
"I understand. I didn't mean to pry. How about we go for some hot chocolate?"  
  
Stiles nodded. "I have hot chocolate at home. Let's continue this loop on the trail, though. The end is closer to my house than going back the way we came."  
  
"Sure.”  
  
As they walked, they met a few people along the way as the sun was coming out a bit more, making the park more desirable.  
  
There was an instance where a man walking with his eyes downcast on the sidewalk didn't bother to move out of the way of Derek's path despite the sidewalk being plenty wide. He smashed his shoulder into Derek, who lost his footing and fell. He may be a werewolf but he didn't have supernatural strength when it came to slippery surfaces. He instinctively grabbed the first thing his fingers brushed, which happened to be the blanket around Stiles' neck.  
  
Stiles cried out in shock as Derek fell, trying to catch him. The blanket, thank God, untied easily from around his neck.  
  
However this meant that Hunter was rudely introduced to the cold air and bright sun and he immediately shrieked in anger. His face still gnarled with unsightly ridges and yellow eyes like a beast.  
  
Stiles was too busy trying to help Derek back up to his feet while cursing out the man over Hunter's cries to notice anything off about his baby.  
Derek didn't miss the man's face though when his eyes landed on Hunter: Shock, disgust and then suspiciously calm judgment. Like he knew what the situation was.  
  
Glaring at Derek and shaking his head he marched on while Stiles stood there, arms open exasperatedly.  
  
Derek quickly covered Hunter again with the blanket, even ducking underneath to cup Hunter's pink, fat cheeks and whisper to him with his alpha tone as quietly as possible. Hunter's angry cries slowly quieted to exhausted hiccups and Derek smoothed the harsh ridges along his eyebrows and nose with his thumb. Wiping away evidence of the supernatural.  
  
When he pulled himself out from under the blanket, he was met with Stiles' red face who was grinning stupidly.  
  
"What?"  
  
Stiles shook his head. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."  
  
"What’s that goofy grin about?” Derek pressed, stepping closer.

“You’re just… the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.” Stiles sniffed again, almost looking emotional.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
"Are _you_ okay?" Stiles emphasized.  
  
"My right butt cheek is a little sore but other than that I'm peachy." He took Stiles by the arm and continued back towards Stiles’ house.  
  
By the time they reached the house they were both shivering thoroughly and Derek was glad for the heat. He was even more pleased to find out that, even though the house was still immaculately clean, the cinnamon musk of Stiles was stronger, as was Hunter’s woodsy cinnamon smell.

The sense of home and wholeness was overwhelming as he slowly took off his coat and scarf, staring in the tiny room like it was a home he had been far away from for too long. It made him emotional but he schooled his features into calmness, glad the cold was a good cover for the wet sniffle and red cheeks he exhibited.  
  
Stiles kicked his boots, blanket and coat off recklessly; rubbing his hands together to warm them up as goose bumps broke out across his skin. If Hunter wasn’t currently attached to him, Derek just might have given into the temptation to lick them away.  
  
Stiles pulled Hunter up and out of the carrier and placed him on his little blanket with his toys, discarding the carrier to the floor and doing a little jog to the bathroom humming a tune that sounded a lot like, “ _Gotta go gotta go, gotta go right now_.”  
  
Derek had to put his hands over his face to prevent himself from dying over how cute Stiles was.

Lord, give this werewolf strength.

Derek made himself busy with hanging their coats and placing their wet boots on the shoe rack, picking up the discarded carrier and placing it near the door where Stiles’ backpack was as well.  
  
After Stiles had recollected himself, he set a kettle to boil for hot cocoa. “You are about to have the best hot cocoa of your life. Well… not the best. My mom made hot cocoa in a crock-pot when I was a kid and Goddamn that stuff is good. I just have the powder stuff.”  
  
Derek sat at the kitchen table, watching Stiles make the hot coca. He filled a large cup with water and hot cocoa mix, popping it in the microwave. Then, he pulled out a bag of mini marshmallows; grabbing a hand full and filling two mugs with each handful. When the microwave dinged, he pulled it out of the microwave and poured the hot cocoa on top of the marshmallows.  
  
Derek laughed and took his mug from the countertop. "The perfect topping for my marshmallows. However did you guess?"  
  
"Wait wait. It's not done." Stiles said, reaching out for the mug and accidentally placing his fingers over Derek's. Derek felt his ears turn pink and Stiles flicked a vaguely bashful glance at Derek before casually cupping the bottom of the mug. He shook a spice jar over the drink, sprinkling a good amount of cinnamon on top.  
  
Derek groaned. Some divine being was testing him.  
  
"I know right? It's perfect." Stiles nodded as he sipped his own.  
  
Derek… had to respectfully disagree but drank it anyway.  
  
“I want to cook dinner.” He stated, out of the blue.

“What? No you can’t. You’re the guest.” Stiles snickered.

“ _I’m_ ,” Derek pointed to himself, “the babysitter. Aren’t I supposed to make things easier for you?”

“You’re a ham that’s what you are. You’re thinking of a maid.”

“Butler," Derek retorted. "Is that a no, then? Taking away my chance to serve you my mom’s pot roast?”  
Stiles made a show of wiping away imaginary drool, complete with lisp-y slurping sounds. “Well when you put it like that.”  
  
The hours seemed to blend together as Derek and Stiles talked. Maybe that had something to do with it being winter and the sun setting just after four o’clock but Derek felt incredibly content and happy as they jumped from topic to topic as Derek peeled and chopped carrots, seasoned beef and chopped onions. He left the garlic out when Stiles had told him he was allergic.  
  
Derek learned that Stiles was twenty years old and didn't really have friends. He still kept in touch with people from high school but most of them kept their distance. For whatever reason.  
  
He learned that Stiles struggled with ADHD, depression and panic attacks throughout his childhood, as he had suggested before.  
He learned that Stiles was a huge nerd. Like a huge nerd and a kid at heart. Once he got into retelling a story, he became extremely animated; hands gesturing everywhere, expressions shifting dramatically. He actually caught Hunter's attention and they beamed when he began giggling at Stiles' antics.  
  
Stiles learned that Derek was twenty-five.  
  
He also learned about his adoptive family and how they helped him, Laura and Cora deal with the loss of their family while they watched their uncle struggle to recover severe burns and survive coma.  
  
Stiles learned that Derek was a dork and didn't know jack shit about superheroes but listened to every bit of Stiles babbling about them.  
  
Stiles also discovered that he really, really liked making Derek laugh. His eyes lit up and his cheeks turned red as he gasped and rocked with laughter. It made Stiles’ stomach do flip-flops.  
  
It was a pretty fucking awesome day considering how the morning had started.  
  
The pot roast smelled fantastic. Like Christmas had come two and a half weeks early. The smell gave the entire home a cozy family feeling that made Derek want to cry because he couldn’t pull Stiles close like he remembered seeing his own parents do on the holidays; completely forgetting about the full moon.  
  
Stiles checked the time to see it was almost six and he should really nurse Hunter before they eat dinner. Especially since the two feedings that had happened between now and when they got home had been bottle feedings from Derek. Stiles was sore and worried the bra pad was going to fail him.  
  
“I’m going to take Hunter and freshen up a bit. You’re free to watch some TV. I mean, I don’t have any cable or anything so you can pick from the DVD’s if you like.”

Derek nodded, “Alright.”  
  
Picking up Hunter, Stiles walked into his bedroom, shutting the door.  
  
Hunter seemed much better off than he had that morning; eyes bright and babbling happily.  
  
Stiles sat down on the bed and lifted his shirt; placing Hunter on a different nipple so Stiles could pump the other one.  
  
His emotions were conflicting. He was really enjoying Derek's company. He hadn't felt this good since before he got pregnant with Hunter; even longer than that, actually. He hated having to keep secrets from Derek but he had to admit that it was still far too soon to tell if Derek would judge. If Derek would get angry, disgusted or even violent.  
  
Hunter kicked him in the rib for thinking negatively again, restricting the flow. He sighed, and pet Hunter's hair to the side, focusing on relaxing as he reached for the pump.  
  
There was a knock on his bedroom door and he stood up in a panic, throwing the pump haphazardly onto the floor out of sight, turning away from the door and trying to look as casual as possible. "Y-yes?"  
  
Derek actually opened the door to peer inside and in that moment Stiles wanted the world to swallow him whole. "Where do you keep your ladle? I couldn't find it near the utensils."  
  
"It's in the drawer underneath."  
  
Derek seemed hesitant, recognizing the tension in Stiles' voice as well as his stiff posture. "Okay, thanks."  
  
He shut the door and Stiles let out a shaky breath, feeling lightheaded. Hunter was dissatisfied with the stress in the air and being denied an easy nursing session. He pulled away with a huff and Stiles quickly replaced the bra pad over his nipple and went to changing him into a fresh diaper.  
  
He walked into the kitchen, trying to be as stoic as possible and placed Hunter in his high chair. "You be nice with Derek while I shower."  
  
Stiles walked back to his bedroom, swiping the pump off the floor and dashing as slyly as possible to the bathroom. It was a huge relief to be able to pump the other side. He felt like he could breath again.  
  
He hummed as he stepped into the kitchen after his shower, smelling the pot roast as Derek was shredding the beef with a fork and knife.  
  
"That smells freaking amazing."  
  
"It should taste freaking amazing." Derek said, setting the crock-pot lid down on the counter. "It's ready."  
  
Stiles grabbed two large plates for him and Derek, stacking them next to the pot as Derek grabbed two large bread bowls; cutting tops out of them and filling the bread with pot roast.  
  
Stiles made appreciative noises watching the bread bowl be filled with the roast.  
  
He turned and looked at Hunter, who was mouthing his fists and watching them casually. He didn't get nearly enough milk when he nursed earlier which made Stiles wonder if he could use this moment to try baby food again.  
  
He made his way to the cupboard above the sink, where rows upon rows of baby food were kept, and picked a jar of puréed sweet potatoes and a soft baby spoon. Stiles loved sweet potatoes as a baby, still did. Who could go wrong with sweet potatoes? He tied a bib around Hunter's neck as Derek set the two plates of pot roast down.  
  
As they sat down to eat, Hunter between Stiles and Derek, he opened the jar of sweet potatoes with an audible pop. Hunter shrieked and gave Stiles an affronted look.  
  
Derek nearly choked.  
  
"Oh come on, it's sweet potatoes. Sweet potatoes are awesome." He dipped his finger in the paste and tasted it. Yep. Delicious sweet potato. He scooped a small bit onto the spoon and brought it near Hunter's face, who shrieked again, twisting his head away.  
  
Stiles managed to get a bit into his mouth the second time he opened to shriek. Hunter smacked his lips, making a face and looking at Stiles like he'd just committed treason.  
  
"See? It's not that bad." He didn't plan on giving him too much. In fact, he decided to grab a small plate, and poured a small bit onto it, placing it in front of Hunter.  
  
Eventually Hunter took a risk and dipped his fingers in the slimy mess, forgetting about it being food but of course, being a baby, put it in his mouth. He showed his hand to Stiles, babbling.  
  
"Yeah, see?" Stiles picked up the cut off top of his bread bowl, dipping it in the steamy, meaty juice. He groaned at the rich flavor and stared at Derek like he was a gift. "You can't leave, now, you know that, right?"  
  
Derek laughed, blushing for the millionth time.  
  
It was probably nine o’clock before Derek left. Hunter down and out by eight and Stiles was looking fairly worn himself but fought to stay awake for Derek's sake.  
  
He said his goodbyes, waving at Stiles as he left. He still wanted to keep an eye out, though. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when he stepped outside under the moon light, his gums itching and throbbing as his fangs begged to come out.  
  
He stayed clear of the moonlight's glow, lurking in the shadows in the backyard behind Stiles' bedroom window. He listened to Stiles get ready for bed and speaking softly to Hunter who had apparently woken and was fidgety.  
  
He had half a mind to feel uncomfortable listening in on Stiles' privacy as he listened to Stiles settle down, breathing eventually taking on a deep and slow pattern. Derek wanted to focus on Hunter and how he behaved while also keeping an ear on the perimeter of the home. Peter was right to say that he might not be the only one who knew about a newborn wolf in town. Since he wasn't part of a pack, he would be fair game to the hunters; considered a necessary execution for the safety of the town, unlike the remaining Hale family after the fire.  
  
He sat under Stiles' window, ears and eyes focused on everything. The only creature to come across him for several hours was a cat. It growled at him from the fence line in warning before skulking away.  
  
Around three in the morning, he heard what sounded like feet shuffling from the front of Stiles’ house. He stood up to slowly make his way around the house and heard a very distinct werewolf howl.  
  
He wasn't the only one who heard it. Hunter began crying, angry and desperate sobs that racked his chest. Stiles woke, shushing him groggily.  
  
Derek let himself shift, finding the power in his own shift to be his anchor, making it easy to stay in control under the full moon. His ears extended into sharp points, his canines lengthening, eyes blood red and features shifting into vicious ridges.  
The howl came again and Derek realized something was off. It sounded tinny. Like someone was playing a recording.  
  
With horror, he realized that's exactly what was happening. Someone had managed to sneak onto the property in front of the house, and was playing it. Whoever they were, they were hunting Hunter.  
  
Hunter's cries molded into something animalistic, almost a howl. A crash of shattering glass, and Derek realized the hunter had smashed the living room window. He heard Stiles gasp, and wasted no time running back around the house, jumping onto the bedroom window sill and kicking his leg through, thankful that Stiles' bed was not lined directly under it.  
  
Stiles yelled in terror as Derek continued kicking glass so he could fit and slip inside.  
  
"Stiles! Stiles! Come on!"  
  
"D-Derek?" Stiles gasped, then jumped and yelled again as the bedroom door was broken off the hinges by the intruder. The intruder spotted Derek, spotted Stiles, and lunged.  
  
Derek roared, "No!" and went for the intruder, slamming them against the wall with a loud crash.  
  
"Go!" Derek yelled at Stiles, who was too frozen to move as Hunter screamed bloody murder into his chest.  
  
Derek and the intruder fought, dodging swipes and blows. Derek saw a flash of silver and felt a stabbing pain in his side; Stiles screaming an anguished "No!" from the bed.  
  
He lost his shift and pulled the knife out of his side, grabbing the man's arm and snapping the elbow and shoulder out of socket. The man screamed in pain, dropping to the floor. Derek ripped the knitted ski mask off the man's face. It was the man who bumped into him at the park.  
  
"I-I'm going to call the police!" Stiles grabbed his phone and ran out of the room with Hunter.  
  
Derek sneered, bending down to speak. "It's times like these that make me wonder who the real monsters are. Going after a baby? Luckily for me you were sloppy."  
  
"Y-you didn't e-even know I w's on th-he fuckin' lawn." The man coughed a wet laugh as he lay shivering in pain. "A f-favor to th-he world. Getting rid've ab-bominations.  
  
Derek growled threateningly.  
  
"The cops are on their way." Stiles' wavering voice came from the kitchen over Hunter's cries. The man cursed, using a boost of strength to try and punch Derek in the shin with his good arm.  
  
Derek danced out of reach and then kicked the man in the back to fall facedown, and placed a boot between the man's shoulder blades.  
  
"Try that again and I'll dislocate the other one." Derek spat.  
  
He heard a sob behind him and spun round to see Stiles, arm up to hide his face and try to quiet his tears.  
  
Derek felt his stomach drop and left the groaning man to rush to Stiles. The living room window was smashed completely and the curtains ripped. The cold December air taking over the heat of the house, their breath leaving in big puffs.  
  
"Derek. Derek he stabbed you." Stiles said, panicking and reaching to look at Derek's wound.  
  
"I'm fine. He missed."  
  
"No, no I saw blood. I saw it stab you!"  
  
"It's fine, it's going to be okay now. You're safe." Derek cupped Stiles’ face who jerked away from the touch, looking crazed.  
  
"What do you mean it's okay? That man is still in my house!" Stiles screamed hysterically then covered his mouth again and turned away from Derek as tears spilled down his cheeks, shivering in the cold.  
  
Derek reached out to take Hunter as he recognized the smells and signs of a panic attack. Stiles let him take Hunter and fell to his knees, screaming into the carpet.  
  
Just then Derek heard sirens and looked out the shattered window, ripped curtains reminiscent of hanged corpses as three cop cars and two ambulances parked in front of the house.  
  
Derek held Hunter close to his chest to try and keep him warm as cops rushed out, hands on holsters.  
  
"Beacon Hills Police! Open up!"  
  
Derek quickly opened the door. "He's in the bedroom."  
  
Two cops went into the bedroom while one stayed behind to bend down next to Stiles, speaking into his shoulder radio, "This is Deputy Parrish, we have Stiles. He's okay just shook."  
  
The cop bent back down, speaking clearly and calmly, "Deep breaths okay, Stiles? Your dad is coming. Count with me, four... three... two..."  
  
Hunter wasn't crying as hard as he was a minute ago but he was shivering and choking on snot. Derek wrapped his coat over Hunter, rubbing his back and humming his alpha hum.  
  
Just then a fourth car with the title "Sheriff Beacon County" pulled up, screeching to a halt. The sheriff got out of the car and ran around the hood to come up the icy driveway, bursting through the doorway and bringing a chill of air with him.  
  
"Where is...? Where is my kid?"  
  
Stiles' head popped up from his crouch on the floor, eyes and face puffy and red. In that moment Derek didn't see the cheeky twenty year old he knew, but a terrified child as he half raised his arms up, begging for comfort and safety. "Dad."  
  
The sheriff rushed over and pulled Stiles up onto his feet and pulling him close, whispering, "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay. I'm here, Stan." as Stiles muffled his sobs into his coat.  
  
Stan? Avoiding the cops who hauled the man, ashen faced and moaning, out of the house, Derek found a throw blanket to wrap Hunter up in.  
  
"Come on, you need a medic." the sheriff said, pulling Stiles towards the doorway.  
  
"Wait. Derek... Derek got stabbed. He was stabbed." Stiles looked passed his father to lock eyes on Derek who shifted side to side awkwardly.  
  
"No, really, I'm fine. It missed me."  
  
"No, he's not! He's being stupid!" Stiles fretted, glaring angrily at Derek.  
  
"Look! The knife has blood on it!" he pointed to the knife lying on the floor, coated in blood.  
  
"Come on, son, come to the medic." the sheriff gestured Derek to come closer, pulling him out the door as well.  
  
"We have a stab wound here!" the sheriff called to one of the MT's, who rushed over to investigate the torn, bloody shirt. When he lifted it, Derek's skin was unmarred; perfectly smooth.  
  
"What stab wound?" the MT asked, his voice clipped.  
  
"I told you, it missed me." Derek tugged his shirt down, uncomfortable and cold.  
  
Stiles glared suspiciously, wiping remaining tears from his face.  
  
In the end, Derek was thanked by the sheriff for being there to take action; gently taking Hunter away who fussed, not wanting to leave Derek's warm embrace.  
  
Derek didn't argue. He knew better. That didn't stop him from wanting to stay with Stiles for the rest of the night and ensure he was safe.  
  
"He's going to be safe where he’s going. He and Hunter will be safe."  
  
"Can I talk to him?" Derek asked.  
  
"He's not in the best state, as you can imagine. Give him some time."  
  
Derek nodded, feeling suddenly drained and like he could cry himself.  
  
The short walk to his Camaro felt like ages and he wasn't entirely sure how he ended up home safely.  
  
He wanted to take a shower. He wanted to get a drink. Hell he’d take a wolf’s bane vodka, right now. He wanted to take all his clothes off and scoot under his heavy comforter. He wanted to think about Stiles and try to figure everything out. How strange it was that the night was the most confusing when real legal help showed up.  
  
Alas, he lied down on his bed, face down, fully clothed and fell asleep.

* * *

 

Stiles felt numb as he grabbed a backpack, filling it with a change of clothes, his pump and all the frozen bottles of milk in the freezer; grabbing Hunter's diaper bag. Not bothering with anything else.  
  
What the hell happened? Why was that man targeting him? Targeting Hunter? To realize that it was the same stranger from the park made it worse. Why was Derek still at his house and what the fuck was going on with his face when he came through the window? Stiles would swear before the president that he saw what could only be described as a monster. A gnarled beast with red eyes. Derek insisted the knife missed him, but he knew he saw the knife sink into Derek's side. He saw the blood bubble around the hilt, on the blade, and on his shirt. The same blood currently soaking and staining the bedroom carpet. It was no illusion.  
  
_Who the fuck are you, Derek Hale?_  
  
His dad had Hunter's carrier and car seat set up in his cruiser when Stiles stepped outside. With Hunter buckled in, heat on high to keep him warm, Stiles climbed in the front seat, buckled himself in, land whispered hoarsely, "Let's go home."


	6. CHAPTER FIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles shook his head. “Oh no. No, no, no my baby is not a werewolf!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord have mercy I am horrible with conversations and arguments and just wow. If you have stuck with me this long, get yourself a drink. Treat yoself.  
> If you've been reading this story since before Nov 3 2016, go back and reread since i had to change quite a bit xD

** DEC 8**

Derek woke the next day at two o'clock in the afternoon, feeling sore since he fell asleep in one position and did not move. His bones seemed to creak as he sat up groggily.

He reached into his back pocket to check his phone and found it dead.

Well, he supposed there was no better time to take a shower than while he waited for it to charge.

When he came back into his bedroom, he turned his phone on to see if he had any messages from Stiles. Nothing.

He texted Stiles himself.

**Hey. I just wanted to check on you. Are you okay?**

When Derek didn't get a response after ten minutes, he took his phone with him to his shed in the backyard where he did all of his carvings. He had a line of commissions up for the Christmas holiday and decided to start them up while he waited.

He didn't get a text from Stiles until the sun was almost down and his space heater was struggling to keep him warm from the impending chill of the night. Fingers nearly numb and shivering, he set aside his carving tools along with the choppy wolf head he had carved.

He went inside to warm his bones and only after his fingers were functional again did he check his phone.

_**You have some explaining to do.** _

**Tomorrow?**

**_Meet me at the park by Beacon Hills High at noon._ **

Derek sighed, feeling anxious. He was going to either have to fabricate some amazing lie or tell Stiles the truth. Technically the second option was easier. He wasn't under any codes that prevented him from telling Stiles about werewolves. Hell, he would have to at some point. Hunter didn't make that an option. Who ever the werewolf was that Stiles knocked up didn't make that an option, either.

What if Stiles rejected him? He wasn't exactly worried about Stiles not believing him; it was easy enough to show him.

Derek didn't want to lose Stiles. He was wrapped around that guy's finger. He was also worried about Hunter. He didn't want to think about what could happen if he shifted in front of Stiles. Or the sheriff.

"Who knows," Peter had said over chinese take out, "Maybe the lack of your presence will allow that little boy to pass as human for a few more months?"

"Yeah and then what? Is that a risk you think is worth taking? " Derek grumped down at his chow mein, "His life is at risk. It's not fair to anyone involved." Derek stabbed his chopsticks a little too forcefully in his noodles.

"Anyone involved?" Peter laughed, "You mean _you_?"

Derek glared, nostrils flaring. "No. It's not fair to a parent who has no clue about the supernatural to be expected to sanely and safely raise one. It's not fair to Hunter to keep him oppressed and segregated from other werewolves and knowledge behind who he is and do you think it's a good idea to get the FBI involved when Area 51 comes to pick him up?" Derek felt himself getting a little hysterical, speaking quickly.

Peter waved his chopsticks. "The FBI and Area 51 already know about the existence of werewolves and have much bigger, more interesting and mind boggling mysteries they are focusing on."

Derek's glared deepened.

"But I see your point." Peter quickly added.

Derek lied in bed staring at the wall trying to decide what he was going to tell Stiles. What was his plan?

* * *

**DEC 9**

Derek spent the entire night trying to come up with a sound lie as to what happened without any luck. Steeling himself to tell Stiles for the better, he arrived at the park right at noon.

He found Stiles sitting alone on the top of a picnic table, staring at his phone. It was odd to see him without Hunter. Then, he became mildly worried.

"Where's Hunter?"

"With my dad." Stiles said, tucking his phone away.

Derek relaxed a bit but Stiles still hadn't looked at him.

“Stiles, I know last night didn’t make any sense-”

“The only question I have is why you didn’t end up in the hospital last night?” Stiles clipped, “Why were you still at my house at three in the morning?”  
  
When Derek didn’t respond immediately Stiles shook his head, muttering to himself, " _Abomination_. He’s just a baby. It’s not his fault.”

Derek’s felt his heart go into his throat. “You… you know why that man was there?”  
  
“Of course I know,” Stiles eyes looked red; like he’d been crying a lot through the night.

Stiles shook his head again, closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath, still speaking mostly to himself at this point. “I’m lucky he’s being charged at all. I guess that’s a major bonus to my dad being the sheriff.”

Derek couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did Stiles know about werewolves all this time?

Derek’s words seemed to register completely with Stiles and he squinted at Derek, “Do you know?”

“Of course I know!” Derek said, a little too passionately.

Stiles’ eyes went wide with shock. “You… you knew about…”  
  
“Werewolves.”

Stiles blinked a few times and then reeled backwards like the word literally blew him over. “What?”

Derek stuttered, faltering. “W-werewolves?”  
  
“What do you mean _werewolves_? How did you come up with that? I’m talking about…” Stiles cut himself off, biting his bottom lip. “Are you trying to be funny?”

Derek felt his blood go icy. “No! No I’m… Stiles I’m serious.”  
  
Stiles laughed bitterly, getting down from the picnic table to be at Derek’s height. “Right. Right, werewolves are the reason that guy broke into my house. Genius, Derek. I’m so glad you’re taking this seriously. Let me guess, you’re a werewolf. Is that why you aren’t full of stitches right now?”  
  
Derek bristled, hurt. “Don’t stay it like that.”

Stiles laughed, mean and loud to the sky and made a small circle in the snow like Derek was out of his mind.  
  
Derek had thought it would be easy to convince Stiles by simply shifting and showing him. In this moment however, Derek felt small. He had just revealed himself and now, he was being laughed at by the person he idiotically cared about the most.  
  
“I’m going home, Derek. I don’t want you around. Thank you for saving my life. You’ve done enough good deeds for me.” Stiles turned to walk away and Derek felt his anger return.  
  
He lunged out and grabbed Stiles by the shoulder, spinning him back around to face him. “I’m serious, Stiles. Don't be an ass. I… am… a werewolf.”  
  
Stiles pulled out of his grip. “Bull shit. There’s no such thing as-“

Derek snarled, loud and inhuman. The sound made Stiles freeze, eyes searching Derek’s face.

“I don’t have a choice anymore.” Derek pulled his wolf to the surface, eyes burning red, face shifting into mean ridges, ears, fangs and claws extending.  
He maintained eye contact with Stiles, who stared in disbelief as his brain tried to process what he was seeing.

When Derek was finished, he slowly let go of his grip on Stiles’ coat. “Do you believe me, now?”  
  
Stiles was as still as a statue, evaluating everything he was seeing. After a moment he rubbed his eyes and pinched himself. “Ow! Okay… not dreaming. Not dreaming. This is real. Derek Hale is a… a were… werewolf.” A small hysterical laugh bubbled up from his throat.  
  
Derek put his hands up to try and calm him but the sight of his claws seemed to kick start a breakdown within Stiles who began babbling incessantly and so quickly that Derek actually had a hard time understanding him as he gestured wildly at Derek’s entire body.  
  
“Stiles… _Stiles_ … _**STILES**_!” Derek’s voice seemed to finally snap Stiles’ attention back and he stared for a moment before speaking.

“You… really are a werewolf.”

Derek nodded. “Yes.”

A look of horror spread across his face and Derek expected him to run away but instead Stiles covered his face with his hands and cried, “And I laughed!”  
  
Derek wasn’t expecting that. “I can’t believe I laughed at you! Derek… shit, Derek, I’m so sorry.”  
  
The genuine anguish and embarrassment on Stiles’ face with a little funny and he laughed, surprised that Stiles had, at the very least, not damned him and was actually concerned about his feelings.  
  
Stiles peeked at him through his fingers, face red and humiliated. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“Oh I will laugh at you all I want.” Derek teased. “You deserve it for laughing _at me_.”  
  
Stiles moaned pitifully into his hands. “I do deserve that.”  
  
As Derek came down from the high of his laughter and relief, he saw Stiles slowly putting things together in his head but a confused look took over.

“What… what does this have to do with Hunter?”  
  
Derek couldn’t even bother trying to be sensitive about it. “Because Hunter is a werewolf, too.”  
  
Stiles shook his head. “Oh no. No, no, no my baby is _not_ a werewolf!”  
  
“Yes he is, Stiles.” Derek was still recovering from his giggling fit, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry to be so blunt about it, Stiles. I really don’t have a choice to keep it from you, anymore.”  
  
“Keep it from me?” Stiles scoffed. “How would you, a stranger until as of a week ago, would know something about my baby I don’t?”  
  
“You may have not known he was a werewolf but you must have known something was off with him. He’s not like other babies, Stiles. Human babies.”

Stiles’ eyebrows pinched together, racking his brain. “Well… clearly I’ve always thought he was a special case. He was born so early and then developed so quickly. Going against the doctors’ predictions twice.”  
  
“Hunter wasn’t born prematurely. All werewolves gestate at six months and generally develop two months faster than humans. Hunter is perfectly normal. Once he reaches about a year old his development won’t seem so drastic and he’ll blend in with humans.”

“Normal.” Stiles said the word like it was foreign. He couldn’t process everything this quickly. “Let’s… let’s go back to my dad’s. I need a minute to think and I’m freezing my ass off.”  
  
“Okay, where is your dad’s house?”

“I’ll text the address to you.” Stiles said, briskly jogging away.

Derek made his way back to his Camaro. He had to give Stiles credit for trying. Most people fainted when they first met a werewolf.  
  
Derek had to wonder, though. What was Stiles’ personal reason for thinking that guy had shown up to his house? What was his ‘abomination’?

* * *

  
  
Stiles quickly texted his dad, telling him that he was bringing Derek over to talk about some stuff.  
  
**Derek who?**  
  
_**The guy who saved me last night. He doesn’t know about me being trans tho so don’t say anything about it.**_  
  
**I won't.**

* * *

  
  
It took him about ten minutes to reach Stiles’ a house and Stiles was just exiting a baby blue Jeep in the driveway that far outshined the rickety rust bucket he had been driving before.  
  
He parked his Camaro behind Stiles’ jeep and got out; Stiles was waiting for him, talking to the sheriff.  
  
Derek walked up behind Stiles, introducing himself to the sheriff properly and shaking his hand properly.  
  
“I got called into the station right after you texted me.” The sheriff said to Stiles. “Hunter is asleep in the guest room so be quiet. The baby monitor is on the kitchen counter. Take it with you.”  
  
“Okay, thanks, Dad.”  
  
Luckily the garage was already open, saving the noise. Stiles opened the door and quietly swung it wide, allowing Derek inside.  
  
The house was a nice size; much better than where Stiles had been, as cute and cozy as that house was. Stiles swiped the baby monitor off the counter and gestured for Derek to follow him towards a staircase. The creaking of the stairs was muffled under the carpet as they made their way up to a narrow hallway; two doors on the left and two doors on the right. Stiles made his way to the second door on the left, opening it and peering inside. Hunter was on his back, sound asleep and not looking like he was going to wake up any time soon.  
  
Stiles left the door open a sliver and silently turned back to Derek who had stayed on the top step. He pointed to the second door on the right, “That’s the bathroom just so you know.”  
  
Stiles walked to the first door on the right, opening it and walking in.  
  
It was bliss to Derek’s senses. This was Stiles’ bedroom he grew up in. No matter how long Stiles had been away, this room had Stiles’ DNA absorbed into it’s very walls. It wasn’t a strong smell, but Derek knew that only breaking down the plaster and ripping up the carpet would remove the smell of Stiles’ childhood.  
  
The room was painted navy blue and it was very calming. He felt more stabilized as he took it in. Traces of Stiles were all through out the room. Personality and stories that didn’t exist in the other house were abundant here.  
  
Stiles sat down on his bed with a heavy sigh, patting the comforter next to him for Derek to sit.  
“I have… a lot of questions. Like, a lot and I will probably ask them multiple times until it sticks. I need to know as much as possible. I mean… first of all… how is it even possible for Hunter to be a werewolf?”  
  
“Well… when a mommy werewolf and a daddy werewolf love each other very - ow!”

Stiles shushed him right after he punched Derek in the arm, whispering furiously, “I’m serious Derek! In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a werewolf!”  
  
“Okay, okay. I was aware of it as soon as I met you. Hunter showed me his wolf eyes.”

“ _Showed_ you? How?”  
  
“Just like I showed you.” Derek flickered his red alpha eyes at Stiles again, who shivered.  
  
“How have I not noticed? How is this even possible?”  
  
“Well, the simplest explanation is that you had sex with a werewolf and didn’t know. Since Hunter hasn’t been around other wolves until me, he wouldn’t show his wolf to anyone. My presence probably triggered, though.”  
  
“Clearly,” Stiles slumped forward, exasperated. “This is all so crazy. I’m still half waiting to wake up.”  
  
“It’s a lot to take in.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” Stiles said to the ceiling.  
  
They sat on Stiles’ bed in silence for what felt like forever. Long enough for Derek’s mind to wander and again he wanted to ask Stiles what he meant when he said ‘abomination’ earlier. He glanced at Stiles to see him chewing his cheek, deep in thought, eyebrows pinched.  
  
He pulled up the courage to ask but Stiles cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth.

“Is that why you were so insistent about getting to know me? Us? Because of Hunter?”

Yes and no.  
  
“Partially. I was really curious as to whether you knew he was a werewolf. Whether he was the only one and why. My family was the only pack of werewolves in Beacon Hills for a really long time. Y’know, before the fire.”  
  
Stiles donned an incredulous expression. “Your whole family were werewolves?”

“Not all of them. But there’s no denying we were a pack. Six of my family members in that fire were wolves, including Peter. The others were human.”  
  
He heard Stiles’ heart rate pick up with emotion and clench his jaw tight.  
  
“You said it was arson.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“So… someone knew you guys were werewolves and…”

“Killed my family. Yeah.”

Stiles wiped a sleeve across his face angrily. “You were discriminated against.”

“Yeah.”  
  
“All because they didn’t understand.”  
  
“Worse. They understood and just didn’t care. They were professional werewolf hunters.”  
  
“Oh, God. Professional werewolf hunters? I can’t take anymore. Let’s stop for now.” Stiles rubbed his face trying to remember how to function.  
  
Just then, a hiccupping cough came through on the baby monitor, threatening to build up into a cry. Stiles looked at the time and quickly stood up. Hunter had slept a whole hour past when he would normally nurse, and was probably really hungry.  
  
“Time for lunch!” Stiles quickly went into the bedroom, scooping Hunter up; he and Derek made their way down to the kitchen.  
  
“Feel free to help yourself to whatever catches your eye, Derek.”  
  
_Don’t tempt me._ Derek thought as he watched Stiles walk in front of him.  
  
Stiles let Derek feed him in the living room while he watched from the kitchen island.

Derek sense him staring and turned to look. "What?"

"How am I going to raise a werewolf?" Stiles said, staring at Hunter who was more than content in Derek's arms.

"With me." Derek stated.

"With... you?"

"With my help." Derek said, stumbling to cover his tracks. "I'll always be available for advice. I'll be like... the really close family friend. He'll call me 'Uncle Derek'." The statement made him feel a little sick.

"Uncle Derek?" Stiles laughed like it was funny.

Derek stood up, walking back into the kitchen, Hunter and bottle in hand.

"Unless... there's a chance of his mom coming back?"

Stiles wilted a bit and a strange expression flickered across Stiles' face. "I... don't think it's likely."

"Any idea where she is?"

"No." Stiles said, losing the light in his eye instantly and staring down at the counter. "I have no clue. My dad has a search out, though."

Derek stood awkwardly for a moment before declaring. "Well that settles it, then. I'll be here to help you. You can meet my family and they can help, too."

Stiles turned his neck so hard it cricked. "Seriously? You'd introduce me to your bad ass werewolf family?"

"Well now I have to." Derek smirked. "Now that you know about werewolves."

"Aah. Of course." Stiles nodded, understanding. He turned away to preheat the oven and picked up his cell phone.

"My dad isn't going to be home for dinner. So, I'm ordering pizza. What do you like?"

"Literally anything as long as there is meat involved."


	7. CHAPTER SIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The scent seemed to settle something in Derek's chest that he had not been aware of before, like he had lived his entire life with intense pain and was only aware of it now that it was gone. That feeling was quickly replaced by anxiety as he realized that somehow, Hunter was an embodiment, a creation of Derek and Stiles mixed together. Somehow, Hunter was Derek's son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know. This feels kind of rushed. Does it come off as rushed? This feels rushed.

Over the next couple of weeks, Derek spent almost every single day at the sheriff's house. Derek told Stiles everything he could think of about werewolves and taught what little he knew about werewolf pups. He told him how his own presence influenced Hunter and how his wolf would steadily grow stronger, especially since Derek was an alpha. 

"An alpha?" Stiles had smirked. 

"What, is that funny?" Derek said, feigning offense with a fist on his hip. 

Stiles shook his head, "No, no. I just didn't know there were ranks. You didn't tell me that bit." 

"Oh, right. Well there are three ranks: alpha, beta and omega. The way to know them apart is what color their eyes are. Mine are red. Betas and omegas eyes are yellow. If one of them has blue eyes however, it means they've taken an innocent life." 

"Is that the only difference between alphas, betas and omegas?" 

"Uh," Derek's ears turned pink. "The only other difference is that alphas have an extra physical feature that betas and omegas don't."

"Am I better off not knowing?" Stiles laughed, making Derek blush more. 

"Well, uh alphas have what's called a... _bulbus glandis_."

"A what now?" 

"The more blunt term for it would be a knot. It's... it's meant to increase the likelihood of pregnancy."

"Interesting." Stiles nodded, not seeming nearly as embarrassed as Derek felt. 

He also told Stiles how Hunter would exhibit more signs of being a werewolf as he aged but if Derek was around during full moons, he could help control the anxiety of shifting and hopefully keep the sheriff from finding out. 

"Do you have any superpowers?" 

Derek snickered, "Only superpowers in the sense that they're enhanced beyond the average human strengths." 

"No telepathy? X-Ray vision? Shape shifting?  _Water-bending_?" 

"Night vision. And you saw the extent of my shape shifting. As far as telepathy goes, we are sensitive to emotions and the closer we are as a pack, the easier it is to convey emotions almost silently. Also, sometimes what may seem like telepathy and silent to you isn't to us. We can hear everyone's heartbeats." 

"Everyone?" 

"Well, within like... a fifty foot radius. If your heart speeds up, I will hear it. Sometimes it's like people are screaming. That's why learning to control your emotions is so important for werewolves. Also, this is kind of hard to describe but sometimes there are ties between werewolves and the ones they care about. It's like having a guitar string between us. I can find it, pluck it and  _some what_ convey my thoughts. The more we know each other, the easier. It's all about connection." 

Derek looked at Hunter, who was sitting in his lap on the living room couch, actively playing with some teething toys as his two bottom teeth were starting to come through. "I can influence his shift with it." 

"You mean control it." Stiles said. 

"I guess, yes. I don't want to do it too much, though. That would be an abuse of power and dangerous for him. If you'd like though, I can show you his wolf's eyes." 

Stiles' own eyes widened and sat back a bit, looking unsure. "I don't know..." 

"This would be best to show you now, Stiles. When he's calm and relaxed. It's scary to witness someone's wolf for the first time under stress." 

Stiles gave him a pointed look. "Like I don't know that." 

"Exactly. So how about I show you now?" 

Stiles took a deep breath in and out, silent for a moment before nodding. 

Derek turned his attention to the back of Hunter's head. He pulled his wolf up to the surface, letting his eyes bleed red. He easily found the supernatural tie between him and Hunter - perplexing how strong it was - and tugged, thinking, " _Hey!"_

Hunter turned quickly to look back at Derek with his full attention and Stiles nearly jumped, putting his hands over his mouth as he watched the seemingly silent communication. 

Derek hummed an alpha hum that sounded almost like a growl deep within his chest, his ribs actually quivering with the intensity of it. The sound sent shivers through Stiles and he felt like he should roll over, blushing ferociously at the pang of arousal in his abdomen. 

He was shocked out of it though when Hunter gave a tiny gurgle of a growl back to Derek, eyes flashing bright yellow before offering his toy to Derek. 

Derek smiled wide and bright, rubbing Hunter's back with a broad palm, looking simply ecstatic. His joy rubbed off on Hunter, who beamed up at Stiles. 

"What? What does that mean?" 

"I didn't actually know if that would work. He basically told me he trusts me and accepts that I'm the alpha." 

"Would he have a choice?" 

"Yes. I may be an alpha but it doesn't mean he has to accept me. He could've bit me instead." 

"He barely has those two teeth in." Stiles scoffed. 

Derek feigned fear. "Oh I don't know. If he shifted? Have you ever been bitten by a puppy's milk teeth? No thanks." 

The idea that Hunter could bite him with baby werewolf teeth made Stiles worry. 

"I wonder if humans have ever accidentally been turned by baby werewolves nursing?" Stiles stared at Hunter a little wearily. 

Derek looked up at the ceiling with serious thought. "Not that I know of but I'm sure it's possible." 

Stiles wondered if he should start insisting on Hunter drinking formula. 

Derek pulled a more serious face and looked Stiles in the eye. "Are you ever going to open up about you and your ex? I've told you about my family dying in the fire and I've told you about werewolves. Time to fill me in a bit, I think."

Stiles huffed, shaking his head, "Well that's a little presumptuous but I suppose you've earned it."

Derek settled, patiently waiting as Stiles mulled over what was safe to tell and what truth's he could bend. 

"Infidelity separated us." Stiles said, anticlimactically. 

Derek blinked. "That's all I get?"

"A drunken one night stand. That's all you get."

Derek shook his head humorously. "Well that's one thing we have in common, then."

 

* * *

  

Later that night after Derek left, his dad on a late night shift and Hunter down for bed, Stiles decided to do a little research. First, he pulled up Google and typed into the search: **_Bulbus Glandis_**  

Immediately a bunch of diagrams about canine reproductive structures popped up with arrows pointing at all the different bits and pieces.

"No way." Stiles whispered, muffling a laugh behind his sleeve. 

His "research" eventually led him to porn and Stiles found himself blushing and riding an adrenaline rush like when he was a curious thirteen year old all over again. He tried his best to not imagine Derek caressing his swollen knot, filling someone with it or growling as he came. It was incredibly difficult when Derek was the only werewolf he knew and was the specific reason he was learning about it in the first place - let alone the fact that Derek was a walking wet dream. 

With everything that Stiles was learning, he slowly started remembering the signs that he might be involved with something supernatural over the months of being pregnant.

He lied in bed wide awake, running through his memories; Hunter asleep in his old, faded crib in the guest bedroom; his deep breathing crackling through the baby monitor. 

He remembered the first time; nearly two months into his pregnancy, his own eyes burned bright yellow, just like Hunter, in the bathroom mirror. He had been washing his mouth and face after a nasty bout of morning sickness when he looked in the mirror to see two bright yellow eyes staring back. He'd jumped and yelled, blinked, and they were gone. He brushed it off as a hallucination. Crazy things happened when you were pregnant. 

The second time was when he and Aaron were in the middle of having particularly heated sex. Stiles was on the edge, begging Aaron to keep going, when Aaron yelled in shock, pulling out and away torturously. "What the fuck is wrong with your eyes?" 

The third and last time they made an appearance was when he was in the hospital; crying and screaming through labor, stuck on his back with his legs up and gripping the sheets as well as his father's hand in a bruising grip. Stiles only found out because a nurse blurted out, "His eyes are yellow!" 

Considering the situation he was in, he couldn't give a rat's ass what color his eyes were. 

There was also the obnoxious - let alone disgusting - aversion to cooked meat. He remembers when he was slicing strips of beef for dinner one night. He was hypnotized by the easy slicing and dripping of blood that followed made his mouth water. So much so that he hadn't even questioned if he should pop a piece into his mouth. He cut a cube and placed it on his tongue. It was cold so it wasn't perfect but the satisfaction he got from sucking on the soft meat was immense as the flavor and blood burst on his tongue. 

He'd only managed to get away with that one more time before Aaron walked in on him slipping a raw slice of bacon into his mouth, which he made Stiles, spit out immediately, lecturing him on trichinosis and parasites. 

It took him a while to be able to stomach cooked meat but the time did come. He managed to freeze cubes of beef in an ice tray and would suck on them like popsicles when Aaron was gone. 

He also remembered how quickly he was disgusted by raw meat after Hunter was born. He pulled the ice tray out of the freezer and it dawned on him what he had been doing; quickly dumping the bloody ice cubes into the trash. 

Now that Stiles had seen Derek's shifted face, he wondered if it was possible that Hunter was born shifted. Was that a thing? It would explain why the doctor had recoiled, saying, "That is the ugliest baby I have ever seen." as he handed Hunter over to a nurse and then was perplexed when Hunter was brought back, looking only as ugly as human newborns did. 

Stiles yawned as drowsiness quickly caught up to him, making his eyelids heavy. He wondered what else he was going to learn tomorrow when Derek came over again. He was a little more excited than normal for Derek to come over because his dad was taking a day off which meant Stiles and Derek could go somewhere without the worry and responsibility of Hunter. Excited for the day, he let sleep overcome him, pulling him into the heavy darkness. 

 

* * *

  

Along with all the good things and the bond they were developing over the days, it meant that it was a lot harder for Stiles to keep his body a secret and Derek was getting to know him pretty well. Stiles felt terrible dodging his hugs when he left or twisting to the side so his chest didn't touch Derek. He smelled and felt fantastic, too so it was torture denying himself the contact. 

Of course Derek was aware something was off at this point. Anyone would and spending two weeks straight with someone did that. Stiles nearly had a heart attack one day when Derek was feeding Hunter again - who was actually starting to insist on holding the bottle himself - making a strange face, like he smelled something weird. 

He bent closer to Hunter's face, lightly sniffing near the corner of his mouth. Eyebrows pinched together, he had to sit back for a moment as the smell of the milk Hunter was drinking reminded him of his infancy, of what little memories he had. A suppressed memory of him nursing on his own mother flickered and he had an uncomfortable split second where he actually tasted the milk on his tongue.

"Stiles." 

"Yeah?" Stiles said from the other side of the couch where he was doing homework. 

"Is this breast milk?" 

Stiles froze, lacking subtlety as he panicked to come up with an explanation. "Uhh... yeah. Yeah it is. I've been... buying a donor's breast milk."

"That's a thing?" Derek said, surprised. 

Stiles relaxed a bit. "Yeah. Yeah, totally." 

Derek let the lie go. 

It was only a few hours later that Derek's world was once again flipped. 

He had been given the task of bathing Hunter before bed. He found it to be immensely entertaining. Hunter loved the water, splashing, babbling and showing Derek the rubber ducky with joy. It made Derek's heart swell to take care of Hunter and feel how delicate and precious he was. With the help of his soft alpha tone, he got Hunter to hold still long enough for him to inspect Hunter's face. He had Stiles' eyes. No doubt. As well as the adorable upturned nose. More features of his parents would become apparent with age. 

When he was done he wrapped Hunter up in a warm towel, holding him close to his chest, happy to snuggle into the warmth of Derek's neck. As he did so, Derek realized that Hunter was scenting him. 

Derek took the moment to press his nose into the soft juncture of Hunter's neck and shoulder. He smelled clean and the mix of cinnamon and pine was clear as day with him this close. Derek knew his own scent, his family's scent, better than anyone. The scent seemed to settle something in Derek's chest that he had not been aware of before, like he had lived his entire life with intense pain and was only aware of it now that it was gone. That feeling was quickly replaced by anxiety and confusion as he realized that somehow, Hunter was an embodiment, a creation of Derek and Stiles mixed together. Somehow, Hunter was Derek's son. 

A knock sounded on the bathroom door, which was slightly ajar and Stiles peeked inside. "Done?" 

"Yeah." Derek's voice sounded raspy, like he had a cold as he walked out, passing Hunter over to Stiles. 

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked over Hunter's squawk, as he clearly noticed that Derek had been affected by something. 

"Yeah," Derek said, clearing his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine." 

Stiles didn't believe him but Hunter's  _angry_  pout at him stole his attention. 

"Let's put your pj's on and then you can get more hugs from Derek. Come on," Stiles gestured to his bedroom with his head. "I'll show you how to dress him." 

After Hunter was wrestled into some pj's and a fresh diaper, Stiles handed him to Derek where he immediately quieted. Derek and Stiles walked into the guest bedroom and sat down on the bed in there while Hunter slowly let sleep take him. Derek's mind was going a mile a minute trying to understand why and how Hunter smelled so much like him. There was no doubt in Derek's mind that somehow, he was involved with the conception of this baby. Somehow, Stiles was, too. Both of their scents were braided through his DNA. 

Derek placed Hunter in his crib and put his hands in his pockets, turning to Stiles. 

"I need to go." 

Stiles seemed a little surprised, "Already? It's only eight thirty." 

"Yeah, I uhh... I need to get cracking on my commissions. Make some money, y'know." Derek felt shaky, not able to look at Stiles longer than a second. 

"Derek what's wrong? I may not have super senses but obviously something is upsetting you?" 

"Uhh..." Derek looked down in the crib then back at Stiles, gesturing to leave the room. 

Stiles followed him out and downstairs. Derek stopped in front of the door that led out to the garage. 

"Derek will you please tell me what's going on?" Stiles asked, worried. 

Derek turned to look at Stiles, calculating. "It's hard to explain. I'm not mad. I don't want you to think you've done anything wrong. Will you still come to the Christmas party at my house? After you're done with your family's." 

Stiles blinked, confused, and nodded. "Yeah, of course. It's going to kill me to know what's going on, though, Derek." 

"I don't even know how to properly explain. Or how to even ask. I need to talk to some people and then I can fill you in." 

Stiles sighed, unsatisfied with that answer. "Can you at least tell me what it is that kickstarted this? You were fine when you took Hunter into the bath. Now you're not." 

Derek sighed heavily, foot bouncing as he fought the battle to ask, to tell. He caved, "Hunter smells like me." 

Stiles blinked. "Huh?" 

"Hunter... smells... like  _me._ " Derek enunciated. 

"Well you've been spending a lot of time with him. Touching him, holding him. It makes sense." 

"No, Stiles-" Derek cut himself off before he vomited a brainstorm on the floor. "I'll see you in a couple days." 

With that, Derek opened the door and walked out, shutting it behind him. Leaving a very confused and slightly exasperated Stiles behing. 

 

* * *

 

**Christmas Eve**

 

Stiles was busy wrapping presents for his dad on the living room floor, Hunter entertaining himself and babbling away at nothing on the couch. Stiles was going to go crazy if he didn't know what was so upsetting to Derek about Hunter smelling like him. This was obviously a werewolf thing. 

He had done his own research and quickly found that smell was an extremely important and powerful indicator to werewolves, or at least, a theory, since it was nil impossible to find actual evidence of a creature that wasn't supposed to exist. 

If this "theory" was true, though. What Derek could have been smelling was Hunter's personal scent. His DNA. A fingerprint. Everything that makes Hunter Hunter. Which would mean... 

Stiles looked at Hunter, who remained blissfully unaware of Stiles' turmoil. 

Hunter had Stiles' eyes, his nose, his dimples. Jet black hair, though. That wasn't Stiles. Stiles, like so many white babies, was born with barely any hair that was nearly translucent and took about a year to fully grow. And when it did, it was blonde and stayed that way, growing darker with age. Hunter had a full head of hair that could've been gelled the moment he was born. 

Of course it had never occurred to him to even consider that Derek may be the father. Why would he? The only thing that could be tied to Derek was the hair. 

He had assumed that Aaron had been wrong. He was wrong. He had been the father all along. The fertility test was  _wrong_. 

Stiles bit his lip, anger and heartbreak flooding him again at the memory of Aaron's fertility results left on the kitchen table. Left as the only physical proof that he had been there at all. The house torn apart and all of his belongings and clothes gone. That horrible word " _CUNT_ " scribbled across the fertility results in sharpie. 

Stiles wiped his nose on his sleeve. No, Hunter is also a werewolf, remember? 

The fact that he was even considering Derek to be the father was ridiculous. Out of this world. What were the chances? 

 _Other than the fact that he is one of the only werewolves left in town and you both live in it?_ He thought bitterly. 

 _Ugh._ He put his head in his hands. That night at the club. He had been so fucking drunk. It was almost a year since that happened, it was even harder to discern the details, let alone that he had been so blindingly drunk. He would always remember that feeling of being stretched, though. Filled so tightly he had been sore for days afterwards. Derek even said they had something in common. A drunken-one-night-stand-in-a-club common? 

Was that a knot he had felt?  _Derek's_  knot? He felt dizzy, tipping to the side. He heard Hunter make a concerned half-cry and he got up to get himself a glass of water. "Daddy's okay, baby." 

Stiles filled a glass from the faucet and was drinking it down in large gulps when there was a knock at the front door. 

 _What the hell?_ Nobody he knew came to the front door. The knock came again and Stiles had a sudden worry that maybe it was more werewolf hunters coming for Hunter. 

Hunter made a concerned cry again, and the knocking came louder and faster. Stiles darted around the kitchen island to the couch, scooping Hunter up into his arms and trying his best to back away quietly and silently. 

Footsteps rattled the staircase and Stiles' dad walked passed him. 

"Geez, Stan are you going to open the door or not?" 

"No dad wait-!" Stiles tried to stop him but his dad had a hand on the door and pulled it open. 

Stiles stood in terror, face pale as he waited gunfire, throwing knives, maybe a flame thrower. Turns out it was much worse. 

"Heeeeey!" A tall, boney woman with a thick mane of black hair and a face that screamed tattooed make up and Botox stood in the doorway. Her voice crackling from years of smoking and a smile so white it blinded. 

Aaron's mother. 

The sheriff's voice was strained as he opened his arms saying, "Ms. Weber!"

Stiles groaned to himself. Even when he and Aaron were on good terms he hated this woman. 

"How are you, John?" Ms. Weber said, stepping passed him into the doorway. "I just wanted to drop by and see my baby grandchild!"  

"Did you now?" Stiles' dad stayed by the door looking like he regretted getting out of bed that morning. "I wasn't aware you knew." 

"John, honey the due date was December tenth was it not? Or is she fourteen days?" Ms. Weber said, hands on her hips. 

Stiles bristled, lip curling and Hunter gave an uncomfortable cough that sounded like a threat to cry. 

Ms. Weber turned and spotted Stiles and then gasped. "Is that my baby grandchild?" 

"His name is Hunter." Stiles said, coldly. 

She didn't meet his eyes but a peculiar look crossed her face. "He... seems a little old for fourteen days." 

"He was born October first." 

"An early baby!" She beamed, all teeth. "Even so, he seems older." 

Hunter pouted, looking worried as she put her gloved hands out like she was going to snatch him. 

Stiles wanted to back away. To not let go. His instincts telling him to run. Common courtesy won over despite the disgusting surprise of his ex-boyfriend's mother. 

Hunter however, screamed, loud and piercing when her hands touched him and Ms. Weber backed away, blinking from the pitch. 

She didn't fight it but instead looked Stiles up and down with a sneer as if it was his fault. "Hasn't Aaron taught you to shave your face, yet?" 

"No. Only a man would know how. Care to teach me?" 

It was a childish remark and frankly uncalled for but Stiles didn't give a shit, really. Ms. Weber had expressed her disgust with Stiles since she learned of his existence. 

John put a hand to his face.

"Care to tell me why Aaron doesn't know about his baby having been born?" Ms. Weber asked, voice light with forced calm. 

"Because Hunter isn't his baby. He wasn't there for the birth and he never signed the register. Nothing ties him to Hunter." 

Even John seemed a little surprised. 

"What do you mean this isn't his baby?" Ms. Weber pointed as if the claim was an insult. 

"I mean he _isn't Aaron's baby_. Aaron left. I figured you would know that."

"I did know that," Ms. Weber snapped. "He finally came to his senses about you. Nothing good was going to come from someone like you. You're an abomination." 

"And you're a transphobic, homophobic vampire." Stiles spat. "How did you get across the threshold?" 

Ms. Weber probably would've been red in the face if her make up allowed it to show through. She raised a hand as if to strike Stiles but Hunter let out a horrific cry, eyes burning yellow as the sheriff was suddenly there, grabbing her arm and steering her out the door. "Leave before I arrest you."

It was such an odd, derailing instance that once she was gone, Stiles didn't know how to process it. She had been in the house for all of two minutes but her presence brought so much anger and worry. If she felt fine walking in through the door, how would Aaron behave if he decided to get involved? If he didn't know that Hunter had been born, he likely would now. 

 

* * *

 

Derek spent his entire Christmas Eve trying to figure out how it was possible that he and Stiles had somehow created Hunter together. This was out of Peter's league when he had tried to talk to him about.

"Derek, it  _is_ possible for two male werewolves to procreate but you have to use a bunch of sketchy spells and voodoo to do so. I don't imagine that's what you did in the Jungle." 

"No but the alcohol was laced with wolf's bane. What if there was some sort of ritual going on?"

"Wolf's bane?" Peter laughed, unimpressed. "Wolf's bane may be strong shit but it's hardly an ingredient for a fertility spell."

"What else could possibly explain me and Stiles having a baby together?" Derek yelled to the room, pacing with anxiety. 

An idea dawned on him. A horrible idea but if it was possible... 

"Can two men impregnate one woman?"

"Absolutely. With twins. It's extremely rare but it happens. Why?"

"No no I mean, can two men make one baby in a woman?"

Peter laughed absurdly. "What? Maaaybe? With a shit ton of black magic. Again, why?"

Derek scratched at his neck in frustration. "I just... I don't understand how. That girl in the club smelled _exactly_ like Stiles."

"Maybe that's just it, then, Derek. She _smelled_ like him. End of story. It's not even remotely impossible for two people to smell alike. You know you generally tend to be attracted to people who smell more like you? Science." Peter said, tapping his forehead.  

Derek's eyes widened with horror. It was possible. He was so fucking drunk at the time, how could he trust his inebriated senses and brain to correctly remember and decipher the truth? He felt queasy, leaning against the wall to hold himself up. 

"Oh, God. Peter if that's true... Fuck and Stiles even said that she left because of infidelity and a drunken one night stand." He slid down the wall, putting his head between his knees, trying not to pass out. 

"Jesus, Derek, _what_?" 

"It means that  _I_  was her one night stand and _I_ got Stiles' girlfriend pregnant."


	8. CHAPTER SEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now he had no choice. He was faced with his problem dead on and he couldn't leave. Not without causing anymore damage than there already was. He heard thundering footsteps coming towards the room, only slightly muffled by the carpet before Derek burst through the bedroom looking angry and scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I say this about every chapter, but I don't know how I feel. I was almost done with this chapter a long time ago but the election threw me into a depressive spiral and I've been writing like... three sentences a day and then rewriting things and I cut it off way earlier than I hoped but I think anymore conflict in this chapter would just be overkill. 
> 
> It got unexpectedly dark in a way that might be totally unnecessary with mentioning Scott because as of right now, I had no further/deeper plans to make his part relevant so Idk??? Did I just fuck up?? Agghkk;;; 
> 
> Hopefully ya'll like it.

**CHRISTMAS DAY **

 

Stiles didn't wake up until ten in the morning. When he realized what time it was, he leapt up out of bed and ran to the guest room expecting to find Hunter screaming from hunger and a diaper rash or dead. Hunter had started sleeping through the night and generally woke Stiles up via baby monitor at seven in the morning. When he opened the door and reached the crib, he found him gone and the window open. The chill of winter bit his cheeks and the curtains fluttered menacingly in the breeze.

 

Stiles' felt numb and his ears started to ring as panic set in. "Dad?" he croaked.

 

"Dad?" Stiles called, turning to run out of the room, finally finding his voice as he darted down the stairs. "Dad!"

 

"Jesus, Stan, quiet down, what is the matter?" Stiles stopped, spotting his dad in the kitchen watching a pancake bubble in a frying pan; Hunter in his arms watching the frying pan.

 

"Holy sh-," Stiles clutched at one of the stools in front of the kitchen island. "I thought he was kidnapped! Oh my God."

 

"Kidnapped?" John laughed as he flipped the pancake.

 

"He didn't wake me up at seven and when I went to go get him he was gone and the window was open!" Stiles pulled himself up onto the stool to slump face down on the cool counter as he waited for his heart to settle. Hunter made a soft whimper, reaching in Stiles' direction. He still only tolerated John holding him for as long as he needed to.

 

"Oh, that was me. I snuck in just before he woke up and took care of him for you. My Christmas present to you. Merry Christmas, by the way. Will you go shut that window? I opened it to air out the poop smell."

 

The best description for how Stiles left his stool was that he melted his way off. Limbs noodly as he made his way back up the stairs, not feeling too horrible when Hunter squawked offendedly for being left behind.

 

He shut the window, grateful that the house was going to stop heating the outdoors and felt the air thaw around him. He made his way to the bathroom to shower for the day and, after some not-too-close inspection in the mirror, decided he did indeed need a shave. His beard was thick and long. He could hardly see his mouth anymore and it blended into his hairline. It's not that he looked bad, he just figured it was time.

He bent down to the cupboard under the sink and pulled out a small, black case, opening it to pull out an electric razor. He laid a towel in the bowl of the sink to catch the hair. This was the easy part, shaving it down to a length that his small hand razor could handle. The hard part was actually using the hand razor. His hands shook too easily and he was afraid if he blinked wrong he'd cut himself.

 

After spending ten minutes trying to still his hand and get the stroke right, he chickened out and called for his dad.

 

His dad came upstairs to the bathroom, looking inside to see Stiles was a face covered in shaving cream like a five year old. John choked on a laugh.

"Don't laugh at me old man! Just help me." Stiles pouted.

 

"Alright, alright, calm down." John said, still smiling as he took the razor, tilting Stiles' chin up and delicately making smooth strokes with the grain of Stiles' beard.

 

"I hope you aren't shaving it because of that old bat Ms. Weber," John made a face mimicking her. "I was rather impressed by your beard. I didn't grow a beard this thick until after high school and you've been taking testosterone for what, three years almost?"

 

Stiles rolled his eyes in order not to laugh. "I probably take after the men on mom's side of the family, then. And no it was two years. I had to stop when I found out I was pregnant. I can't start again till I'm done nursing Hunter. It's just time for a change."

John tsked, "Even more impressed than. Since you were able to grow this without your regular shots."

 

"Hopefully I can start again in a few months. I miss it and I could use the energy boost." Stiles spoke through his teeth as John reached the bottom of his chin.

When John was done he handed Stiles a damp wash cloth and aftershave. It burned like a bitch but smelled fantastic. When Stiles straightened up he felt like he was fourteen again. I'm fucking adorable. He thanked John, who shrugged saying, "Ah it's what dad's do" before leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind him. Stiles stripped and got in the shower to wash away any remaining beard hairs, enjoying the warm water hitting his bare face.

 

When he was done and changed into some clean clothes, he headed back downstairs where pancakes and a happy baby waited for him. Stiles made his dad open his present - nothing extravagant since his income was next to nil. It was a t-shirt that said "New Grandpa - Rookie Dept. 2016".

His dad thought it was funny so that's all that really mattered.

 

"Now tell me again when that Christmas Party is?" John asked as he folded the t-shirt back up and placed it to the side.

 

"Five o'clock," Stiles said. He was sitting cross legged on the floor with Hunter in his lap who was busy staring at him very seriously, eyebrows pinched together. It hadn't occurred to him that Hunter had never seen Stiles without a beard before. "Are you going to Melissa's?"

 

"She's going to come over here, actually. I think the house is still too much to be alone in. Did you want to leave Hunter behind? I know she would love to see him."

 

"I was planning on taking him." It was a really good opportunity for Stiles to meet and learn from other werewolves and Derek had encouraged him that meeting other wolves would be better than knowing only Derek, too. "There might be alcohol so I don't know if I'll be coming home as soon as I promised."

 

"Stay the night." John waved dismissively and Stiles blushed.

 

"I was going to ask if you could come get Hunter?"

 

"How do you know I won't be drunk? Or _occupying company_?" John teased.

 

"Because you have work in the morning. Also, gross. Don't ever hint at having sex with Melissa to my face ever again." Stiles cringed.

 

John laughed. "Alright, you caught me. Don't get so drunk you can't take care of Hunter. You might see Melissa before you leave. She's supposed to be here at three."

 

"Cool."

 

Stiles used to love Christmas as a kid. Melissa's presence was always a sad and painful but welcome one. Stiles had known Melissa since he was ten so she really felt like family to him. The hard part, though, was that she was his best friend Scott's mother, too. Scott wasn't here anymore. Just like Stiles' mom. John and Stiles' had met Melissa and Scott through a support group for LGBTQ Youth and specifically for transgender children. Scott, just like Stiles, was trans and they had been inseparable. They spent all the major holidays together since both their families only consisted of themselves and their parents.

 

When high school came around, Stiles and Scott had been tormented relentlessly by other kids as well as teachers and "concerned" parents. Stiles and Scott toughed out what they could, supporting each other along the way and managed to graduate. Scott however, committed suicide when they separated paths in college. Scott had a harder time alone because he had believed that his identity was why his father abandoned him and his mother. Scott's death was something Stiles struggled to not blame Aaron for. It wasn't fair or logical to blame him for Scott's suicide but they had been attached by the hip until Aaron insisted on Stiles moving out of the dorm from Scott. It wasn't fair and he withheld himself from speaking his mind about it but at the same time, especially now, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forgive Aaron for separating them.

 

So, Christmas was tough. Seeing Melissa was tough, thinking about his mom was tough but Stiles and John were all that she had during the holidays. So her company was never turned down; as painful as it may be.

 

Stiles felt his throat close up and in this moment wished he was back on testosterone so the tears wouldn't come so easily.

 

"I'm going to go pump a bit so I won't be hurting at the party." 

 

"Stiles you pump like a cow, we're going to have milk for years. I'm going to need to buy a separate freezer. Maybe start cooking with it."

 

Stiles feigned retching. "Gross, dad. Hunter isn't nursing as much anymore. I don't pump nearly as much as a few weeks ago. I'll be back." Stiles got up, setting Hunter down to play on the floor and going to his room.

 

He fought the urge to cry as he set up the pump. Crying would only restrict the milk but thinking about the loss of his best friend as well the residing adrenaline from thinking Hunter had been kidnapped were taking a toll on him. He set the pump aside to grab his pillow; stuffing his face into it and letting the tears come. Letting his anger, betrayal and loss seep out of him into the plush fabric. He was angry at Aaron, he was angry and heartbroken for Scott and he was scared he was going to lose Derek. Lose him because Stiles was pretty sure that he was going to have no choice but to come out and confess his story to Derek. Technically it was only fair and, debatably, far less mind blowing than coming out as a werewolf. Derek had opened up a lot of himself to Stiles and in return he adamantly kept his life locked away.

 

He did his best to breathe and relax. When the sobs subsided and he could breathe through his nose again, he picked up the pump and reattached it to his nipple, turning it on. Eventually the milk began to flow in weak dribbles and after about twenty minutes on each side he had filled the container with about fifty ounces. He straightened his clothes, replaced the bra pad and took the pump downstairs to fill a bottle and store in the freezer.

 

He spent the next several hours assisting his father with Christmas dinner and decorating the small, plastic Christmas tree they pulled out from storage as well as taking  the time to pack Hunter's diaper bag: diapers, extra changes of clothes, various scentless hygiene products, teething toys, a throw blanket, some baby food and an insulated lunch box with several frozen bottles of milk, which he actually left in the freezer until it was time to leave. He also packed a backpack with an extra change of clothes for himself and more bra pads in case he did end up sleeping over. 

 

A little after three o'clock Stiles was feeding Hunter some more sweet potato mush when he turned sharply towards the door leading from the garage. Stiles was a little taken aback and wondered what he heard when a second later the door opened and in came Melissa. _Damn wolf hearing._ He stood up, arms open wide to hug Melissa as John also made his way over as well.

 

"It's my boys!" She cried, arms full of what could only be bags of presents.

 

She spotted Hunter in his high chair and bent down to kiss his cheek. Hunter didn't really respond except to close one eye as he was smothered with kisses. He tolerated Melissa only a little bit better than John.

 

She righted herself again and walked into the living room to set down her arm load of presents. She flipped her hair as she stood back up once again, sniffing from the cold and unzipping her coat. "Oh, man you two have really been cooking haven't you? It smells amazing! Oh, and Stiles," she cupped her hands out to take his face in her hands. "You're so handsome! Look at this hair oh my goodness."

 

"It's a bit long," Stiles laughed. "I shaved this morning but I don't trust myself to cut hair. Let alone blindly."

 

"I can smell that aftershave. It's good. Want me to cut your hair? You know I can."

 

Stiles hadn't even thought about that. It was true that Melissa could cut hair as she had been doing Scott's for years. "I won't turn that down."

 

"Dinner will be ready in about an hour." John checked his watch and timer, picking up the abandoned jar of sweet potatoes to continue feeding Hunter.

 

"Come on, let's go." Melissa turned Stiles to march him up the stairwell and into the bathroom again. She knew where everything was in the house by now and immediately dug out the hair trimming scissors and a bottle of water. She placed a towel over Stiles' shoulders and sprayed his long hair until it was soaked. She combed it flat, covering his eyes much to his amusement.

 

"How should I cut it?" Melissa paused.

 

"Remember what it was like in my senior year of high school?"

 

"Of course I do." She smiled and immediately began snipping away."So, your dad tells me that there is a tall, dark, handsome man in your life, now?" she teased.

 

"He said what?" Stiles sputtered. "We aren't dating."

 

"Well it sure sounds like he spends plenty of time over here. And he seems to really care about you and Hunter's well being from what John says."

 

"Hunter _loves_ him." Stiles couldn't help but talk about it. "You weren't there when I met him. I was having a really hard time at the grocery store and he started crying and it was embarrassing and I couldn't do anything and then suddenly, Derek freaking Hale right there offering to help me. So I hand Hunter over to him to get his binky out of my bag and when I look up? Asleep. Out cold on Derek's chest."

 

Melissa aww-ed and gushed over the stories that Stiles told her about Hunter and Derek. By the time he was done sharing his stories, Melissa had created a mess around Stiles and had the hair dryer out; raking her fingers through his hair.

 

She took the towel and bundled it up into a ball so as not to lose what hair it did manage to catch and doing her best to dust off stray hairs. "I'll leave you to clean up. Tell me how you feel about it afterwards." She left Stiles to once again take another shower.

 

It felt amazing to feel the shower hitting his scalp more intimately. For it to tickle the back of his neck once again. Stiles sighed, feeling tension leave his bones as he tipped his head forward. He was so caught up in taking care of Hunter that he ignored what used to be detrimental to his sanity and identity. Keeping his hair short used to be one of the things that was non-negotiable with his dysphoria. As soon as his hair had grown long enough to tickle his ears it was time for a hair cut. 

 

He was relieved to once again be able to dry his hair via towel instead of a hair dryer or dealing with damp hair and getting chills. He styled his hair somewhat messily; not caring for it to look perfect. Just get it up and off his forehead. He spent just a little more time than usual in front of the mirror. He still refused to look down past his collarbones but he actually got cheeky enough to waggle his eyebrows at himself. _Is this what they call a smolder?_

 

When he opened the door Melissa was standing right outside waiting to see. "Do you like it?"

 

"It's perfect. Thank you, Melissa." she beamed and hugged him, walking back into the bathroom to clean up the remaining hair. 

 

Stiles didn't eat dinner with his father and Melissa since he was supposed to be leaving for Derek's party but he hadn't received an address from Derek via text yet. He was a little worried that Derek decided to cut him cold turkey since it was after four o'clock and Derek still hadn't called or texted when the dinner was supposed to be at five. Stiles was glad to sit with John and Melissa while he waited, knee bouncing and chatting with them as casually as possible.

 

At four twenty his phone chirped at him and he quickly unlocked it to see that Derek had finally texted him back with the address and apology. 

 

**Sorry. Been busy getting everything ready. Luckily dinner will be a little late so come over when ever you are ready.**

 

Stiles quickly replied back, ** _Ok i will head over now. are you going to tell me what happened the other night?_ **

 

Stiles wasn't so lucky to get a response. He sighed, deciding he best get going. He stood up from the dinner table, "Well Derek just texted me. I'm going to head out. I'm glad I got to see you, Melissa and thank you again for the haircut."

 

"Of course, hun. You take care of yourself and that little baby. He's cute as hell." She smiled as Stiles bent down to hug her. John  took a swig of his beer and stood up to help Stiles take everything out to the car as Stiles pulled Hunter up and out of the highchair. He pulled the throw blanket out from the diaper bag and wrapped Hunter up in it, opening the door and walking out into the cold. The snow was like slush and everything felt wet like it had rained instead of snowed. Once he got Hunter buckled up in the back of his jeep, he turned back around to hug his dad. "Bye, love you. Merry Christmas and I will see you either later tonight or tomorrow."

 

"Don't be in a rush. Take your time. Have fun. Be careful." His dad patted him on the back and waved, heading back inside where it was warm. 

 

Stiles quickly got in the jeep to turn it on and warm up as Hunter made uncomfortable noises from the cold. He checked his phone in case Derek had replied but was disappointed. _Okay, then._  He entered copied and pasted Derek's address into his GPS, backed out of the driveway and following the robotic voice to Derek's house. 

 

It was a quiet drive, it was almost night time and the sky was completely overcast. Even though it was Christmas, there was something about it that made Stiles feel extremely vulnerable and like he had a clock on count down above his head. He spotted Derek's home where three cars including his Camaro were parked. He  pulled into the driveway, parking behind Derek's Camaro. He was about to text Derek to say he was there, but before he could even pick up his phone, the front door to the house opened and two women came running out barefoot, blazing smiles on their faces. Stiles did his best to not relate them to a pack of dogs bounding up gregariously; however accurate it may be.

 

The younger one, who seemed close to Stiles' age, skid to a halt in front of his window, smiling at him. "Hi!" he heard her yell from outside the window. 

 

The other woman opened the passenger door and climbed in without so much as a look at Stiles and squeezed between the seats to look at Hunter. 

 

"Hey!" Stiles barked,  quite uncomfortable with the fact that this stranger went straight for his baby. 

 

"Laura! Cora!" Stiles looked up to see Derek through the jeep windshield and he looked embarrassed and pissed, his alpha baritone not to be misunderstood. Shivers broke out across his skin that were completely unrelated to the invading cold from outside. 

 

Cora quickly walked back around the jeep to stand by Derek's side. Laura withdrew herself from the Camaro, Hunter in her arms and looking amused but unimpressed. "Nice try, Derek." 

 

She turned her attention back to Hunter, who seemed very concerned about who the hell she was. She flashed her bright red eyes at him and he flashed his own yellow. Laura didn't even bother trying to be subtle and stuffed her nose into his neck. Her eyes widened, blinking at him in confusion and looked at Derek with what could only be determine as accusation. Hunter stuffed his own nose into her neck, rubbing his face momentarily there and then turned away, uninvested, to look at Stiles with questioning concern. 

 

The exchange happened quickly and Stiles had been struggling with his seat belt, finally flinging himself out of the jeep and slipping in the slush on his way to Laura. "I'd really appreciate an introduction before you come and pick up my baby." He spat. He'd already has a kidnap scare that morning he didn't need to experience it again.

 

"Sorry," Laura said, tucking her arms behind her back. "I have a thing for babies and I got excited when Derek said his friend was bringing his son." Her eyes didn't leave Derek, the same suspicious stare in tact. 

 

"How about you help Stiles bring his things in." Derek glared, clearly hinting for her to make up for her mistake. 

 

Laura glared back, mostly in amusement. "I'll do it because that's the decent thing to do. Not because you're an alpha, _like me_. May I also remind you you're _my_ little brother." She turned back and grabbed all of the bags, including the carrier and marched her way back to the house. Her bare feet smacking wetly on the slushy concrete. 

 

When he stepped inside the house, warm light flooding from the kitchen, he was enveloped and slightly overwhelmed by the smell of ham and turkey, the heat thawed his cold ears. He didn't expect Cora to be right up in his space as well, this time to look Hunter in the eyes and flash her own yellow wolf eyes at him, stuffing her nose in his neck. Hunter curled away a bit and pressed closer to Stiles, rubbing back on Cora for only a split second. Stiles tried to deflect Cora as subtly as possible when her own eyes grew wide, staring at Hunter in shock. 

 

"How 'bout I take Hunter while you take off your coat?" Derek reached for Hunter, who turned to look at him and more than willingly went to his arms to hide his face in Derek's neck. 

 

"The coat hanger is just behind you there." Derek said quietly. "Dinner is pretty much ready. We can sit down if you're ready." 

 

Stiles nodded silently. Derek was treating him fragilely and all Stiles wanted to know was if Derek was going to tell him what was wrong. However he simply followed Derek into the kitchen where a man in a wheelchair was making his way to the dining room with a large bowl of mashed potatoes in his lap. He was almost as handsome as Derek, with twice the allure. 

 

The man turned to look at them and smiled brightly. "Hello, my name is Peter. I'm Derek's uncle." Peter held out his hand for Stiles to shake. 

 

"I'm Stiles. And this is Hunter." Stiles pointed to Hunter who was solidly clinging to Derek's shirt and looking around somewhat worriedly. 

 

Peter gazed up fondly and Derek knelt down to Peter's level, gently turning Hunter to face him. Hunter met Peter's eyes and Peter, just like Cora and Laura, flashed his red eyes at Hunter, who sighed like he was sick of introducing himself and flashed his own yellow eyes back. Peter chuckled and left the greeting at that, clearly sensing that Hunter wasn't down for more unnecessary physical contact. 

 

"Well it's nice to meet you Stiles. Let's go sit down and eat some dinner." Peter gestured to the dining room where the rest of the food was placed, Laura and Cora making sure everything was arranged. The food looked fantastic. A thick, perfectly browned ham with a brown sugar crust was sitting in the middle of the table. Around it were green been casserole, various bread rolls, butter, margarine, cranberry sauce, stuffing, turkey with the light and dark meat separated in thick chunks, candied yams coated in brown sugar and walnuts hidden under thick, perfectly toasted marshmallows. Two gravy boats located on each end of the table for the mashed potatoes Peter was now sliding in to join the rest of the food. 

 

Jesus there would normally only be four people as far as Stiles could tell. Not that Stiles was complaining. He wouldn't turn down a chance to stuff himself with good food. He doubted Hunter would turn down any of this, too and he felt his mouth water as he stared at it all. Laura quickly left the dining room to go back into the foyer and retrieve Hunter's carrier, coming back and placing it on a chair so Hunter could see and observe while they all sat down.  
  
"This is amazing." Stiles said as they all sat and scooted close to the table. Hunter was in between Derek and Stiles. Peter was at one head of the table where it was easiest for his wheelchair to park next to his chair while Laura and Cora occupied the other long side directly across Derek and Stiles. 

 

After everyone was situated and settled, they all turned to look at Peter and he said with a smile, "Dig in." 

 

Twist my arm. 

 

Stiles immediately filled his plate with potatoes, pressing a crater into the pile to fill with gravy, a scoop of green bean casserole, a slice of ham and dark turkey chunks and a roll with margarine. He couldn't fit anything else but eyed the candied yams, hoping there would be some left. They were silent for the first several minutes while they loaded their plates and got the first few bites in. 

 

Only when they all had slowed down filling plates and eating did Stiles start receiving questions. 

 

"So, Stiles," Peter spoke up. "Derek has obviously clued you in on werewolves and we know that Hunter is a werewolf," - ' _Oh no_ ,' Stiles thought. ' _I can't tell you who the father is and how I ended up with a werewolf baby unknowingly._ ' - "tell us how you and Derek met?" 

 

Stiles _had_ been expecting that question but not as the first, blushing slightly. Peter made it sound like they were dating. "Um, we met at the grocery store, actually." 

 

Cora snorted. "How romantic." 

 

Derek nearly lobbed his spoon at her head, glaring and turning beet red. Laura laughed, hiding her mouthful of potatoes behind her hand. 

 

"Hunter was crying and Derek offered to hold him. Hunter just... fell asleep." Stiles said, shrugging but clearly still in awe, shaking his head at the memory. "We started hanging out and Derek told me about werewolves." 

 

"It wasn't that simple but I guess that's the short version." Derek said, stirring his mashed potatoes and gravy together. "I realized Hunter was a werewolf immediately but was sure that Stiles didn't know. I agreed to help out around the house with Hunter just, y'know, hoping to be there." Derek shrugged, taking a bite of his potatoes.

 

"You didn't know?" Cora said, disbelief coloring her tone as she grabbed another roll from the basket. 

 

Stiles shook his head, mouth full of green bean casserole. 

 

"That's interesting. Your girlfriend didn't suspect anything?" Peter asked, Derek glaring daggers over Stiles' shoulder when he wasn't looking. 

 

"Uhh," Stiles paused. "Yyyes there were signs but it wasn't like it was obvious. It's not like we knew what was happening. Yellow eyes and weird appetites for raw meat." Stiles grimaced.

 

Laura nodded. "That happened to our mom when she was pregnant with Derek, too. Funny thing is that she was a born werewolf, too but she would lose control of her eyes shifting and she'd crave raw meat. Which was something she never did when she wasn't pregnant." 

 

"Really?" Stiles and Derek said at the same time, both looking a little weary. 

 

Laura laughed a bit, looking between the two. "I mean it's not uncommon."

 

"Oh," Stiles said, returning his gaze to his plate and looking very interested in his turkey.

 

Just then Hunter sneezed, his face popping into a shift for a second before he scrunched his nose and shifted back to normal. 

 

Laura, Cora and Peter laughed fondly while Stiles clutched a hand to his heart. Watching Hunter shift was still new and it was going to take a while to get used to. He still had nightmares about Hunter shifting in front of his father. If sneezing could trigger it... _Oh, God._

 

Hunter looked at Stiles then looked at Derek, who wasn't paying attention until Hunter made a noise at him. Derek turned to look at him, spoon in his mouth. What Stiles didn't expect, _at all_ , was Derek to feign sneezing and shift his own face.

 

Stiles knew he shouldn't be surprised that Hunter smiled, but he knew if it had been himself he probably would've cried. There was nothing too amusing about Derek's face. But then Hunter made a 'shh' sound, nodding his head and actually managing to shift again.

 

Everyone but Stiles broke out into joyful giggles. Derek shook his face, making a ridiculous ' _hrbrbrbrbrb_ ' sound, his face going back to human. Hunter broke into giggles and shook his head making a 'm-m-m' sound, face going human.

 

"Christ." Stiles muttered, watching them interact, smiling but in awe.

 

"You used to sneeze and shift like that, too." Laura said, clearly watching a memory unfold in front of her. "I've never known another wolf to do that."

 

Derek looked uncomfortable then and stopped. Hunter turned his attention to Peter, apparently finding interest in him and Peter asked, "May I?" Gesturing to him.

 

Stiles nodded, picking Hunter up out of his carrier and passing him over to Peter.

 

Peter set Hunter up in his lap and smiled down at him, taking a few minutes to continue entertaining Hunter while everyone ate.

 

Stiles managed to get a large scoop of the candied yams and nearly moaned when he took a spoonful of hot, sticky, sweet yam and marshmallow. He let his eyes roll and he rested his head on his hand as he chewed blissfully. Cora hid a snort behind her hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles saw Peter pull Hunter up to his chest and stuff his nose into Hunter's neck just like Cora and Laura had. 

 

A slight shock and then a shit-eating grin crossed his face as he looked at Derek. "So it's true."

 

Stiles looked to Derek who was staring in what looked like horrified rage, maybe embarrassment, at Peter. 

 

His stomach felt full of led as Stiles realized what the odd looks the Hales were sending towards Derek might mean. They were obviously smelling whatever it was that Derek might have been smelling. The suspicion that Derek was Hunter's father only seemed confirmed, then. Everyone was thinking it, apparently. Hunter looked like he could mold into this family easily with his black hair and, y'know, being a werewolf.

 

Suddenly all eyes were on him as they all must have heard Stiles' heart excelerate. Having an audience didn't help and he stood up, picking flight over fight. "I-I'll be right back."

 

"Stiles." Derek said as he rounded the table to walk down a hallway he assumed might lead to a bathroom. No one had laid out the house for him when he got here so he prayed he was right. He followed the hallway and down a corner, picking a door by random and going inside. It wasn't a bathroom but it was quiet and Stiles shut the door behind him, trying to stop himself from being sick on the bedroom carpet. It wasn't that this idea was news to him. He had been thinking about the likelihood of Derek being Hunter's father ever since his research session that night Derek left. But now he was in Derek's house and everyone else seemed to be catching on as well and, as far as Stiles knew, nobody knew their history let alone his secret.

 

Now he had no choice. He was faced with his problem dead on and he couldn't leave. Not without causing anymore damage than there already was. He heard thundering footsteps coming towards the room, only slightly muffled by the carpet before Derek burst through the bedroom looking angry and scared.

 

"Stiles what's wrong? Are you sick?" Derek took a step forward and Stiles took a step back, suddenly feeling angry himself. 

 

"Talk. You said Hunter smells like you. Clearly that means something. There's a reason and your family seems to know, too." 

 

Derek swallowed thickly, fear overlapping the anger. "In order to answer your question you have to answer mine. You said you and your ex broke up because of a one night stand."

 

"Yes." 

 

"At the Jungle?" 

 

Stiles paused, his stomach clenching despite knowing. "Yes."

 

"At the end of March?" Derek's voice shook a bit.

 

"Yes." 

 

Derek cursed, dragging a hand through his hair and looking around like he'd forgotten where he was. Silence fell between them as Stiles watched Derek shake on the spot. 

 

"You're his father. Aren't you?" Stiles said, voice solid and unwavering. 

 

Derek looked up, fear making him look pale and small. 

 

"It was you at the club. In the bathroom." Stiles stated. Because he knew. It was the only thing that made any sense. 

 

"Stiles," Derek looked terrified, taking a step forward. "I would never have done anything to tear you and your family apart on purpose. Please, you have to believe me."

 

"I do. Answer the question. Was it you?" 

 

Derek nodded, breath shaky with panic. 

 

Stiles let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Looking down at his feet. Of course he knew, but to confirm it with Derek was many things. Mind boggling, relieving, terrifying. 

 

"I'm so sorry Stiles. Please I- I don't want to lose you. I'm sorry." 

 

"I know, Derek. I believe you. I do." He said to his feet. 

 

" _You_ are his father, too, Stiles." Derek said, trying to regain his composure, looking serious. "You've been taking care of Hunter this whole time. Where has your girlfriend been? She left!"

 

Stiles barked out a laugh, shoulders slumping as the stress bubbled up in giggles without his control. God what was his fucking life?

 

"Derek, sit down." he said once he had managed to stop, gesturing to the bed in the room like as if Derek was a guest and they sat down next to each other, Derek looking lost, worried and nervous by Stiles' reaction.

 

"Derek there is literally no easy way for me to explain this to you so I'm just going to say it. I've kept it from you long enough." Stiles took a deep breath in and exhaled. "I've never had a girlfriend. There never was a girlfriend. Hunter is _my_ baby. _I_ gave birth to him. I'm..." Another deep breath. "I'm transgender."

 

He waited for a response. 

 

Nothing. 

 

He dared a glance at Derek, who was focused on Stiles' shoes, looking puzzled. 

 

"Wh... What?"

 

"I'm transgender." Stiles repeated. 

 

Derek's eyebrows pinched together as he mulled over the word, "Transgender."

 

"Yes. Do... do you know what that means?" 

 

"I've... heard of it?" Derek said, looking up to meet Stiles' gaze. 

 

"It means someone who... identifies as a different gender than what they were assigned at birth."

 

Derek nodded. 

 

"Does that make sense?" Stiles asked, feeling only a little twinge of anxiety at this point. 

 

"So you... you were born female?"

 

"Y..yeah." Stiles sighed, feeling uncomfortable. 

 

Derek blinked a few times, looking away to properly process this information. 

 

After another awkward silence, Stiles interrupted Derek's brainstorm. "Does that bother you?"

 

Derek turned back to look at him. "No. No it doesn't bother me."

 

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. "Okay."

 

Something seemed to click in Derek's mind and he gasped before his face went bright red - Stiles had lost count how many times Derek had blushed tonight - before coughing, eyes darting in nervous, embarrassed glances at Stiles from the corners.

 

"What? What is it?" Stiles pressed.

 

"That means you and I have... y'know... fucked."

 

Stiles had already thought about this; was in fact aware of it yesterday but his cheeks pinked fresh all the same. "Yeah I guess we have." 

 

Another moment of silence stretched between them until a very faint cry from Hunter could be heard from the dining room. Derek mumbled, "I think you're needed."

 

"Yep." Stiles said briskly, standing up far too quickly.

 

It was awkward and uncomfortable as they exited the bedroom together. Stiles was mostly worried what he would say to Derek's family. With a human family he wouldn't even be dealing with the suspicion of Derek being Hunter's father via super smelling powers so he likely would've been able to continue going stealth. Was he going to be forced to come out to his entire family right now? 

 

Hunter wasn't crying too much. He wasn't scared or angry, Stiles noted, but seemed more concerned as to where Stiles was. When Hunter spotted him the cries immediately died down, holding his arms out for Stiles to pick him up as he returned to the dining table. 

 

It was a moment that Stiles was grateful he had Hunter there. Picking him up and holding him to his chest, feeling his warmth and solid weight relieved some of the anxiety, his stomach gradually unknotting itself as he sat back down to his cold dinner. 

 

Luckily the Hales seemed cognizant enough to mind their own business, asking Stiles if he was alright and safe to stay before moving onto dessert early. Laura brought in two large pies, apple and pumpkin, placing them in the middle of the table followed by vanilla bean ice cream and whip cream. 

 

The warm pie and cold ice cream soothed Stiles' nerves, and the knowledge of Derek - so far - accepting him for who he is had Stiles in an optimistic, albeit exhausted, mood. He dared give the tiniest taste of ice cream to Hunter, collecting a sticky drip off his plate with his finger and sticking it into Hunter's mouth. Hunter's eyes lit up and he made a face of absolute delight, opening his mouth for more. Stiles gave him one more before kissing his cheek audibly and returning him to his carrier. 

 

Eventually they fell back into the rhythm of happy family and good company. Temporarily forgetting the hiccup of the night as they chatted over dessert and wine. Stiles helped Laura and Cora clean up dinner, putting leftovers in the fridge while Derek washed dishes; listening to Cora's stories about South America. Peter keeping company with Hunter in the dining room. 

 

Afterwards, Laura opened the fridge to pull out a large jug of eggnog that had a peculiar hue to it that may or may not have worried Stiles on it's freshness. Could werewolves get food poisoning?

 

"It has Wolf's Bane in it." Cora waggled her eyebrows. "That's why it looks odd. Almost a green right?"

 

"Yeah I think I'll pass." Stiles wrinkles his nose at it. Honestly it's probably best to stay away from alcohol in general since he had Hunter with him and also hadn't touched it since that night at the club. He didn't want to spend his first day out to Derek drunk on Wolf's Bane. Plus, despite knowing that his body would burn off any average human alcohol and not contaminate his milk, he didn't know if Wolf's Bane could contaminate it. The last thing he wanted was to give Hunter Wolf's Bane via nursing. 

 

As if on queue, Hunter started making distressed whimpers that Stiles recognized as him being tired. He checked the time to see that it was nearly ten o'clock. Of course he would be tired, as well as hungry. He turned to Derek, "Do you mind if I feed Hunter and put him down to sleep for a while?"

 

Derek shook his head. "You can use the room we were in earlier. That's the guest room." 

 

Stiles thanked him and went to Hunter, picking him up out of Peter's lap and walking down the hallway to the bedroom, grabbing the diaper bag by the front door along the way. 

 

Hunter was still making upset, whimpery noises and Stiles realized he probably needed to be changed, too. _God, no more distractions._

 

After he had changed Hunter, he changed into his pajamas, removing the damn bra pads. Pulling back the thick comforter and sheets on the bed he lay Hunter down on the soft mattress. _Holy shit that's good stuff._ He kneeled on the floor digging through the diaper bag looking for the insulated lunch box, worried that the milk might be thawed and undrinkable now, when he realized it wasn't even in the bag at all. He haphazardly shoved all the contents around, looking again to confirm. Then he remembered that he did indeed leave the box in the freezer at his dad's. 

 

"Fuck." Stiles whispered, head drooping. 

 

"What's wrong?" 

 

Stiles yelped, not having heard Derek walk in. Probably because he left the door open. 

 

"Uh, I left Hunter's milk at home." 

 

"Do I need to go get them for you?"

 

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head from where he was kneeling on the bedroom floor. "No. It's fine." 

 

"What will you do?" Derek asked, sounding mildly concerned as Stiles stood up.

 

"Umm, well..." Stiles looked down at Hunter who had a sour face on, kicking impatiently. "I will... nurse him."

 

"You'll what?" 

 

"I'll nurse him." Stiles said, scooping Hunter up into his arms and scooting under the blanket. "You need to go, though."

 

"I'm sorry I'm just trying to now wrap my mind around the fact that you can nurse him?" Derek blinked, looking dumbfounded. 

 

"Yes." Stiles felt his face color. "And I'm particularly private with it so if you please?" Stiles waved his hand in a shooing motion to which Derek backed out, closing the door behind him in disbelief. 

 

Stiles was a little shaky, trying to even out his breathing as he unsnapped the buttons on his night shirt to let Hunter nurse, who greedily latched on. He let his head fall back against the headboard, letting himself relax and just focusing on Hunter's proximity. Feel how heavy he was getting and listen to his breathing as he nursed. By the time Hunter was done, he was exhausted, feeling drained and ready to go straight to bed. 

 

Hunter didn't seem far from it himself. Eyes barely open and head lolling as Stiles scooted to the edge of the bed to properly burp him. A light knock on the door and Stiles quickly pulled his night shirt closed and said, "Come in."

 

Derek peered inside before allowing himself in completely and closing the door behind him, whispering, "We don't get drunk very often and the Wolf's Bane hits hard so everyone is asleep already." 

 

He noticed Stiles holding his shirt closed and offered to take Hunter. He could burp him at least. He knew how to do that. As he did, Stiles snapped the buttons back into place and it was the first time that Derek actually saw fabric tight across his skin long enough to notice that Stiles did indeed have breasts. 

 

Intrigued, but hoping to be sensitive he asked, "Is that why you wear baggy sweaters and hoodies all the time? To hide your chest?"

 

Stiles nodded, watching Hunter stare around the room as Derek patted him gently on the back, towel draped over a leg. 

  

"Hopefully it won't be a burden for too much longer. I think I'm going to transition Hunter onto actual donated milk. Maybe then I can stop producing milk and get surgery sooner." 

 

"I knew it wasn't donated." Derek whispered, looking smug. 

 

Stiles laughed, which made Derek laugh. Their moment was cut short by a wet hiccup however as Hunter spit up all over himself and Derek instead of the towel. 

 

Derek was courteous about it; he didn't _drop_ Hunter, thank God. After everyone and thing was cleaned up, Stiles laid Hunter down to sleep, turning to Derek he said, "I'm pretty tired. I think I'm going to go to sleep myself. I'll... see you in the morning?"

 

Derek nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. "Um, Stiles I'm really glad you told me."

 

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, feeling warm. "Sorry it took so long. Thank you for being cool about it."

 

"Yeah. I hope you understand, though. I have to tell my family."

 

A flicker of fear passed over Stiles' face.

 

"About Hunter being my... my son. At the very least. I mean, they already know. And of course they'll have questions about you. They'll be certain that you are also his father but maybe not know how. But I won't tell them anything beyond confirming that Hunter is mine."

 

Stiles nodded, looking nervous again. "Right. I... I don't think I can tell them. Not yet."

 

Derek nodded. "I understand. Anyway," Derek turned to step outside of the bedroom, hand on the doorknob. "I'll be up making hang over waffles for everybody." 

 

"Hang over waffles?" 

 

"They're just like regular waffles only you eat them when you're hungover." 

 

Stiles snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, okay. Good night, Derek." 

 

"Good night, Stiles." Derek backed out, aching to stay and talk with him. To learn everything about him. It would have to wait. At the very least until morning.

 


End file.
